


Imaginary Lines

by trickssi



Series: Rodeo Ring Cycle [1]
Category: Tales of Symphonia
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama, Easter eggs EVERYWHERE, F/M, Rodeo Ride Tour, Romance, Sheelos, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-06
Updated: 2014-03-31
Packaged: 2018-01-07 16:31:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 56,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1122054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trickssi/pseuds/trickssi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Don't even tell me where we're going. Just walk by my side! Sheelos, a retelling of Rodeo Ride Tour with DotNW spoilers; meant to tie into excruXiation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Glimpse

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Rodeo Ride Tour](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/33773) by Winged Dancer. 



> A Foreword on RODEO RIDE TOUR
> 
> I was confused at the title of “Rodeo Ride Tour,” the phrase being untranslatable in terms of colloquial understanding to English. Was Sheena saying her life was as wild as a rodeo? With, like, cows runnin’ around waiting to be caught? And then I realized her voice actress wasn’t saying “rodeo” so much as she was saying “Rodeo.” Roh-DAY-oh.
> 
> Like the way aesthetes pronounce the ballet by Copland and de Mille, which I studied a bit in college; wherein, and I shit you not, the main character is a tomboyish “Cowgirl” (Sheena) trying to get the affection of the “Head Wrangler” (main character Lloyd) but he’s totally more into the “Rancher’s Daughter” (subdued Colette). She makes a fool of herself trying to get his attention and does the opposite of what the Rancher’s Daughter would do. The Cowgirl then finds herself partnerless at the dance until the “Champion Roper” (Um, hi, Zelos; especially in the part where he’s trying to impress all the ladies and falls on his ass) approaches her and she realizes she’s not quite as alone as she thought.
> 
> So, I’m adopting this American pop culture idea and applying it to what is otherwise a typical Japanese are-they-or-aren’t-they romance. (And it seriously doesn’t help that in the ’73 ABT version, the Wrangler and the Roper are both wearing red, and the Daughter’s wearing white with blue accents. I think that costuming was my “aha” moment; It was the moment I knew I needed to make this work, no matter how long it would take me.)
> 
> Where “Rodeo” is a bit of a stretch for a theme, Walk the Moon’s “Fixin’” is less of a stretch for representing the voice of Zelos on this journey. There isn’t a line I’d question in terms of whether it applied. The lyrics of this song guide me but not in such a limiting way as the outdated “songfic.” At least, I hope. There is much to be said when a fanfic is supported by distinguished artistic media! (Can you tell I have a liberal arts education yet??) Aaaaaand now you have the lens with which to fully enjoy my speculations. Congratulations on our PS3 bundle, y'all!

Don’t even tell me where we are going  
Hands over my eyes, hands over my eyes  
Don’t even tell me where we are going  
Just walk, just walk, just walk, just walk by my side

* * *

 

**1\. A GLIMPSE**

He’d been planning for some time to make his great escape. Trouble was, every time he was resolved to leave for good, it seemed like his little sister came down with a flu that nearly brought her to death’s door. And so, he’d set out from his mansion in the dead of night to make a trip to the South East Abbey, stay with her until she was well, and leave before she realized how long he’d been there. This would have been about the seventh time.

The Exsphere just wasn’t working for Seles. And on top of that, Lloyd was making a concentrated effort to punish anyone who owned an Exsphere, even going so far as to destroy them. The clear solution, then, was to hide the Cruxis Crystal with Seles and high-tail it back to Meltokio before anyone figured out he wasn’t there. Would’ve been so much more convenient to just take her back with him, “but Zelos,” she’d whine, “all my stuff is here!”

By some stroke of luck, being out of town to exchange his Cruxis Crystal allowed him to avoid the attack upon the Wilder Estate. Someone, some strange person leaving the moniker of “Bomb Wizard,” threw bombs over the walls to the courtyard and obliterated a section of the wall as well as most of the greenery. Sebastian was quick to order Papal Knights to guard the wall, but the vandals had fled before anyone saw them under the cover of night.

“What the hell is this?!” Zelos wailed upon seeing the damage still charring.

“Master Zelos, there appears to be a bounty on your head. I thought Papal Knights would be the wisest solution, for the time being,” Sebastian explained.

“We’d better find something more long-term. They’re going to be busy at Carnivale tomorrow."

One of the Papal Knights turned his head to the side and a huff of air escaped from his gilded helmet. It was no secret that the Pope hadn't been the biggest fan of the Chosen. The Knights remained loyal to the crown and the Chosen for the sole purpose of preserving the religion under Cruxis. As it were, Zelos happened to know quite a few secrets about Cruxis that could destroy the Church and undermine the whole of Tethe'alla.

Not that Zelos would commit that sort of treason. Old Zelos might have. New Zelos was busy dealing with a few more pressing matters.

"Goddamn Carnivale," he muttered.

Zelos strode back into the mansion with Sebastian scuttling, as ever, not too far behind.

"Master Zelos, are you still planning on attending the procession this evening?"

Zelos leaned against a polished counter in the kitchen. "Gotta appease my hunnies, don't I?"

Sebastian smirked. "I'll have the racing briefs picked up from the dry cleaner."

"Make sure you get some for those guys, too," Zelos gestured to the guards planted in the back courtyard. "I can't have them ruining my entourage."

Carnivale in Meltokio was campaigning to replace Martel's Day as a new worldwide celebration: a brightly-yet-minimally-clothed song and dance festival enjoyed by all. It was invented for the anniversary of the uniting of Tethe'alla and Sylvarant. You know the day; the one with the Tree. For Meltokio's particular celebration, the Church promoted a procession of the royal members down the grand steps of Meltokio as a sign of good will to all class levels within the city. Zelos's original plan had been stripping a layer of clothing upon landing on each level of the city until he was wearing just a skimpy bathing suit brief—drive the ladies wild. But now, he was thinking, all that wasn't seeming like such a good idea. It wasn't like they had practiced the procession or promised any individual protection against acts of violence.

Bombing the Wilder estate itself. In all the years he'd lived there, through all the difficulties with his mother's murder and his father's suicide, nobody had ever attacked the very property on which Zelos lived. Sebastian had been the only bodyguard he needed. You'd never guess it looking at him now, though. The years were unkind to the lines on Sebastian's face and the tone of his muscle. 

It wasn't that Zelos needed a bodyguard, exactly. The Cruxis Crystal provided him with the strength and agility to subdue or evade nearly any foe. When he had it, that was. Now he was hiding his sister's Exsphere while she had the Cruxis Crystal to calm her recurrent respiratory distress. Using a plain Exsphere to bring out his abilities was like catching a whale with a cottonball. If he could, he'd just get rid of the damn Exsphere. Drop it in Lloyd's hand. Be done with it.

But Seles couldn't have the Cruxis Crystal all the time. As long as monsters still existed, he'd need it to fight them off. As long as mana still existed, actually. It was one of those theories Zelos had read about in a mathematical text. Just a little more time and he'd have explored it in detail. But it was too late. The evening of Carnivale would be upon them and no theory of math would keep another bomb from being lobbed into the right place.

"I do hope you have a backup plan in case this turns into a spectacle of martyrdom," Sebastian said, a tone of worry lining his words.

Zelos had to laugh. "You doubt me, Sebs. Already taken care of!" He waved a hand and slipped through the door frame into the study. Now, to arrange for Manuelo the gardener to make a surprise visit.

* * *

Orochi reread the words of the crumpled letter in his hands.

_'Special enforcements will be... kinda fearing for my life a little bit... Do a guy a favor. After all, I did getcha the new job, didn't I?'_

"Oh, my," Orochi muttered. He re-crumpled the letter and stared at the envelope in which it had arrived. Addressed to the Emissary of Peace, it was sealed with the Chosen's emblem and rather hastily scrawled. Since the Emissary of Peace had been busy being the Chief of Mizuho at the time, Orochi elected to open and read it.

"Chosen thinks he's got it all figured out," Orochi rationalized to no one in particular. The letter had been a request for some discreet backup during Carnivale so that the Chosen of Tethe'alla wouldn't fall victim to an attack similar to the one on his home.

Orochi was quick to use an instant-burning powder to vanish the letter into thin air.

It wasn't because he was feeling more spiteful than usual. Mizuho had been building a team of specialized intelligence officers for these new situations. After all, such a resource as an Emissary connecting Tethe'alla to Sylvarant could break into an untapped market for ensuring peace and safety of the residents of the United World. It would be the Tethe'alla Mizuho Information Network that would begin to use their stealth and magic to fill that position.

The special agents of T-MIN had already been planning measures to protect the city of Meltokio from a disaster of terrorism. That fact was inevitable. A man thinking he was a "Bomb Wizard" had sent out a threatening message to them, warning of a magnificent spectacle to exceed the light of the fireworks in the sky. In other words, a direct threat on the lives of the people attending Carnivale.

Orochi and the others were behind in hearing the news about the bombing at the Wilder estate; although, according to Sheena, "that stupid Chosen could have stopped it if he wanted to." Perhaps it was the Bomb Wizard's test to arouse the curiosity and heighten the awareness of the Chosen. Or, perhaps these events were unrelated. Regardless, Sheena didn't need to know about this compounded ignorance of the Chosen, especially since she tended to show him such disregard.

"Orochi!"

The man straightened at his desk and looked expectantly at the doorway. "Yes, Chief?"

Sheena, informal as ever, strode into the room. "I'm done with that paperwork. When are we leaving for the next operation again?"

Orochi took a deep breath. "Oh, sometime in the next few hours. It's really up to you," he said quickly.

"And no news since then?" She opened a filing cabinet labeled "outgoing" in the far corner and unceremoniously stashed a stack of papers inside it.

"None, indeed."

The birds chirped outside as though someone had forgotten the town still rested in the Forest of Death.

* * *

A ring of the doorbell brought Zelos down from making the final adjustments to his costume. By the time he'd made it down the two flights of stairs, Sebastian had already let the bedazzled guest in.

"Master Zelos!"

Before the Chosen could grasp exactly which one of his hangers-on was screaming his name, she was clinging to him with her face in his shoulder. Oh, the sobbing—that was definitely Elena. The girl was a Smithton from the line of Counts, and she'd been to the Wilder estate many a time in the past. Not so much recently, though. She looked up at him with bleary eyes.

"Dear Elena," Zelos managed, "What brings you here?" He flashed a panicked look at Sebastian, who was shaking his head and turning away.

"I heard! I heard about the accident! I can't believe you're okay," she gasped through her tears.

Quite okay, Zelos straightened up. "Cheer up, there. It was nothing more than a fluke."

When Elena stopped crying, Zelos could better see her costume. She was wearing an enormous hoop skirt that showed the boning on the outside. The fabric there was sheer and showed legs painted with stripes and curls. And bursting forth from this skirt at the top was a bird. Long fabric wings, a tiny waistlet, and way more cleavage than a flying creature ought to have. Even as he stood there, he saw tiny bits of feather being tossed around in the light. Sebastian would be picking feathers from the carpet for weeks.

"But... they said there was an explosion!" she yelped.

Zelos had to think quickly. This girl was nothing if not an insufferable gossip, and already it seemed the gossip cloud was moving quickly. If the papers got a hold of this, it would be the end of his freedom for good. 

"An explosion of manliness, maybe," Zelos assuaged. He took her hands gently. "I was just practicing a spell that went wrong. And I know," holding a finger up to her lips, "that I don't often make mistakes, but even such a perfect specimen as I can miscalculate very intricate equations such as magic!"

"Oh," Elena giggled. "That math stuff. I guess it can be pretty complicated."

"Exactly, my parakeet. Say, isn't it getting a bit late for you to be hangin' around here if you want a good spot for the procession?"

Elena batted her eyes. "Brittania's maid is saving our spots at the front of the overhang. I'm not worried."

This, again. "Well, I'll be sure to wave. Give my regards to the Countess."

"Aww, Chosen One, can't you come have fun with me for once?"

"I'm..." Zelos trailed, again looking to Sebastian. "Sorry, I just need some time to complete my look and get to the palace."

"You're so mean, Master Zelos," Elena whined. "Promise you'll find me after?"

He stared at her. Her crooked teeth and her pushed-up breasts and her hooker-glitter eyes. That ridiculous caged bird dress, signifying nothing. He could have said yes, he could have had her so many times before. Somehow, it didn't seem worth it. Like she could tame a wild horse, anyway. The sheer mount of things Zelos had seen in the world, the number of places he'd been—could someone like her truly be able to keep up with that? "So mean," as though she were the only focus of her life. He wondered how she'd react if he'd let the curtain down and show her the true meaning of cruelty.

It wasn't worth it. And maybe _this_ was what kept him from the real freedom.

"Sure enough."

"Do you like my costume, at least?" Elena prompted, giving a little twirl.

He pursed his lips together and raised an eyebrow. "Ah, I see... you're supposed to be...?"

"The legendary bird, Aska!"

Zelos all but cackled. "Aska? That's... fantastic, you do look like a shimmering bird!" Compared to the real Aska, this version was muddied and cheap. Actually, it looked nothing like Aska at all, and after a moment Zelos suspected that it was a leftover costume from All Saints' Day—from the looks of the seams—about eight years ago.

"And what are you supposed to be?"

Elena was inspecting him, but there was little to inspect. He was wearing regular clothing. In fact, the only thing missing was his signature salmon surcoat. The costume he'd been working on was a mask he'd designed a few years ago that would hide both his face and his hair. This year, though, he'd have a cape to go with it, and he'd be free to roam the streets without suspicion. Albeit, part of him was still a little sad he wasn't going through with the strip idea.

"It's a surprise, you see. You'll see me around, that's for sure! But if one little tweeting bird doesn't leave this cage, I can't make my transformation complete," he soothed. He threw in a wink for good measure.

Elena smiled and curtseyed politely. "Say no more. I'll leave you to it... Master Zelos," she crooned. He would have given her a swift, emphatic pat on the back as she left through the door, but too late he realized he'd already gotten glitter on his good gloves. 

* * *

He watched from a packed stairwell. When he was wearing that mask, not a single person seemed to recognize him.

It happened after the minstrels and jesters and low court and high court. It was after the princess's ladies-in-waiting dressed in little more than bikinis. It was after the Pope and the royal party and the announcers. In the corner of the sky, instead of fireworks, two giant flares grew larger and the heat beamed down on an already sweating crowd.

One of the fireballs was bright red and misty around the edges, but the other was most definitely a highly explosive bomb blast. And standing on top of the wall, hundreds of meters below, was a woman in dark robes.

Among cheers and gasps of relief, some grimy-looking man shouted, "Nice legs!"

Oh, was he lucky that the woman hadn't heard him. Zelos knew from experience that Sheena wasn't awfully keen on catcalls. It was her, right? Who else would have been able to call upon that grumpy Summon Spirit? Which means she got his message...

There it was, still smoldering in the sky. That bomb was meant for him. There was no alternative. There was nobody else who would have caught it and saved every citizen aside from Sheena.

When he looked for her again, she had gone.

Damn. The one person he'd wanted to talk to about this whole affair. How was he going to reach her now? Letters screened by her second-in-command wouldn't suffice.

Zelos didn't stick around to see the reactions of the crowd. He'd seen it already. Where could he even start? Palmacosta. Heimdall. Luin. Sure, the relief of not becoming any of those cities would be foremost, but in the back of their minds, the people would be anticipating disaster. Much as he hated what that town stood for, Meltokio was a little fragile these days. Not even the Coliseum was bringing in enough revenue to keep up with the population's needs. Before too long, it was almost inevitable that Meltokio would be replaced by a younger, fresher, newly furbished Palmacosta as the capital of the world.

Behind his eyes, he saw a glimpse of what that future could be. Palmacosta and the whole of Sylvarant would flourish, and Lloyd would be mayor of everything. Sheena would single-handedly unite both empires. Maybe it would take the pressure off. Maybe Zelos could step down as the Chosen and live out the remainder of his days in the quiet corner Meltokio could provide, hanging out at the bar and telling old war stories.

But then, maybe the people of Tethe'alla wouldn't take too kindly to sharing. There might be revolts. There might be more acts of violence by the people toward each other. More misguided acts of terror aimed at one person but murdering so many. The prisons couldn't take it. Meltokio would overcrowd, overpopulate with impoverished citizens who would grow tired of their King. They'd behead their Chosen almost doubtlessly; and while sometimes Zelos still thought that wouldn't be so bad, it meant he wouldn't be able to protect his sister. He paled.

The streets were empty in the district of the nobles and he was able to amble to the mansion freely. But there were no Papal Knights around. Sebastian wasn't waiting for him at the door as usual.

"What, did he think he could get the night off if I'd died?" Zelos thought aloud, lingering in the foyer. He looked at the shadows cast by the wall sconces; the high, vaulted ceiling; the little chairs just upstairs; the bannister and its dark wood. Even though it wasn't built just for him, he loved this house. He thought again of the terrorist's bomb in the garden. What if it had gotten closer? This fortress would be gone. There was only so much hiding he could do before being dragged out one way or another. The way he saw it, there was only one factor that made this place and everywhere he went dangerous, and that was him.

He took to the stairs calmly, making sure to glide his hand up that sturdy bannister. He used to sit on it at the top and balance as he slid all the way down, much to the disdain of his caretakers. Bah, but there were no longer any caretakers. And Sebastian had to have been running an errand.

There was a hidden panel in the back of Zelos's walk-in closet, and that's just where he found the packed rucksack he was looking for. He'd done that months ago after he'd gotten settled in from the Regeneration journey. Hypocritical, yes. After all, that Derris Emblem incident would be hard to forget, but in this day and age, and with the sharing of technology between Sylvarant and Tethe'alla bringing news of the world to the masses more readily, he had to be prepared for anything. It wasn't running away in the face of difficulty.

_Don't look at me like that, you stupid half of a piece of a golden spider_.

Just to be sure, he lifted the top of the rucksack and recounted his goods. Dry provisions; matches; water, water bottle, purification tablets; a small notebook in which he'd handwritten every handy spell he knew in the Angelic language to keep them secret; a couple of potion bottles, zipped in a plastic bag at Seles's instruction, and don't ask why; gels stuffed in the bottom; whetting stone; a change of clothes; that mocking, four-legged spider thing. On top of it all, he kept a blanket rolled up inside a sleeping bag. It looked pretty similar to what he carried on the Regeneration journey, although stuffed with a few more life-saving items.

There. That was it. But for now, he was keeping his mask and his costume nearby, because he was fairly certain he'd need those, too. 

He looked at himself in the mirror, preened. He let the adrenaline flow, then dissipate into radiating pain. Then, he practiced that world-famous grin. "Chin up, Chosen. This could be fun. It's the vacation you always wanted," he told himself. Then, he picked up the rucksack, headed down to the kitchen to write a quick note, and set out on his errand. 

* * *

 

About a mile from the village of Mizuho, Zelos felt a fluttering down to his fingertips. He'd been walking all night just to get there in time, seeing as he couldn't fly without the support of the Cruxis Crystal (or the missing Rheiards) and needed too much anonymity to take the usual coaches. But the feeling came not from lack of sleep.

He was going to see Sheena in her village for the first time since he'd been at her emissary ceremony. This time, he was alone, unannounced, and unexpected. Would it surprise her? Just how pissed would her Grandpa be if he found out that Zelos was here for completely unofficial business? He was crawling out of his skin.

In no time, he approached the gate to the town and greeted by a group of young girls in traditional clothing.

"Halt! Who goes there?"

Still masked, Zelos decided to play up the mystery. After all, they looked to be younger than his sister. "One who wishes to speak with the Chief of Mizuho," he said. "I would have one of you go fetch her immediately."

The girls looked at each other before one spoke up. "I'll go. Interrogate him while I inform the Chief." She trotted along the dirt path far into the village.

"You all are getting formal around here," Zelos observed.

"Don't get cute with us," one girl sneered. She wore her hair in a tight bun at the top of her head, the kind of bun you'd see on stern grandmothers.

"I don't know, you might want me to!" Zelos retorted. Oh, they'd be putty in his hands.

Another girl raised her hand to her back, preparing a knife that was sheathed there. "Just who are you and what do you want with the Chief?"

"Why," he said, now removing his mask and hat, "I'm the Great Zelos Wilder!"

At once, their sneers turned to wide-open, squealing mouths. What little hope they had of appearing professional was obliterated, and he could only hope they were as young as they sounded.

"It's him!"

"It's really you!"

"HE'S ACTUALLY HERE IN MIZUHO!"

And, all at once, the siren, "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!"

Uh oh.

They lunged at him—not even wishing to embrace him so much as pet him with rough and terrifying force.

"To think that you'd deign to visit us in these back woods!" the bun-headed girl gasped. "Allow me to escort you wherever you need to go!"

Before he knew it, someone's elbow was in his face.

"Don't listen to _her_ , Chosen. I'll gladly show you around!"

"No, Chosen, _I_ will help you during your stay!"

"What do you mean? I called him first!" the second one shouted.

"No, I did!" Bun-headed one.

"I want him _more_!"

"Wasn't it me first, Chosen?"

He had to admit, it was nice to have this attention. All these young, nubile bodies clambering for acknowledgment. They all quieted as he opened his mouth. "It's tough being popular. But now, my hunnies, you've gotta stop fighting with each other! The Great Zelos Wilder doesn't love you any less whether there are three or three hundred of you!"

"But Chosen, I don't want to have to share you!" the second guard whined.

"Well, aren't _you_ forward!" the third one shouted. And just then, Zelos could feel his ribcage again, and the girls backed off to wrestle with each other instead. In the distance, Zelos could see a figure in red approaching.

"... Oh, oh, my poor heart," he improvised, more loudly than he probably should have. He clasped over his chest sweepingly.

One of them noticed. "Chosen One!"

"Oh, my, Chosen One! Are you hurt?"

"Ah! Only when I see my darling hunnies fighting. You see, my fragile heart can't take it... do you hear it cracking at the thought of you getting hurt? We gotta do this peacefully, y'know?"

Just as the girls were about to launch themselves onto him once more, a voice stopped them in their tracks.

"All right, all right! Aaaaand you're done, ladies. Yes?" Sheena struggled to tear them away both from Zelos and each other. "His idiocy is contagious, you know. Now scram! Get back to your duties like decent citizens!"

When the mess was all sorted and the girls moping back to their post, Zelos couldn't help but smile.

"Been a while," he greeted. When she didn't go crazy like the fanatics, he continued, "How 'bout that Carnivale? That was sure exciting. But for you to leave without saying hello—my fragile heart can't take it—" He imitated the scene he'd just created with the crowd of women.

"... And?" Sheena spat, not even looking him in the eye.

"... And what?"

"And what brings _you_ here?"

"Oh, that!" Zelos laughed. Why was she being so cold...? "Well, y'see, this is the sort of thing that's best discussed over a glass of wine and some privacy..."

"Listen, if you don't have business, then I'm afraid you'll have to leave!" She crossed her arms and scowled.

"Geez, what's with you? Well, I—Actually, I just came to say hello, since you wouldn’t do me the favor last night." When she didn't respond, he grasped for a reason. "… And maybe I need some advice."

There it was. “Advice?”

"Yeeeeah. It's one of those things that we should talk about out of earshot of those ones." He gestured to the girls from earlier, who had still been staring at him longingly.

Sheena's face softened. "I see. Well, let's get this over with, I guess. Follow me," she instructed. She began down the dirt path.

"We goin' to your place?"

"You should be so lucky, Zelos," she drawled. "But no, we're going to my office."

He followed her through the familiar scenery and they entered through the back to reach her new meeting room. It was an annex to the building he'd visited during the Regeneration and absent of Tiga or Sheena's grandfather. The room was Mizuho-style with special mats around the room and a thick air of seriousness. There was something strange about the door in the back, though—probably some sort of trap.

After he kicked off his shoes, Zelos stepped in. He shouldn't have been surprised to see Orochi sitting in the corner, seeing as he'd turned into some sort of bodyguard of hers. Yet there he was, legs crossed and brow furrowed. "Chosen One," he grumbled.

"Orochi. Good to see you," Zelos said through a forced grin. Meanwhile, Sheena sat in the middle of the floor.

"Well, let's talk, then!" she prompted.

Nervously, Zelos sat down. Just as he was about to protest her, his stomach did the talking. It rumbled loudly enough to fill the room. "Uhh... Sorry 'bout that. I really am hungry. Been traveling all night and all morning, you see," he explained.

Sheena looked at him, then at Orochi. "Fine. Orochi, go ahead and get this guy some of the leftovers from yesterday," she ordered.

"Yes, my Chief." Orochi rose to his feet and kept his eyes leering at Zelos until he was well out of the room.

They say tensely for a moment. Zelos was content just to gaze at her, try to figure out what was going on. Her eyes did seem a little more tired than usual—but who was he to judge? He probably needed that mask to look himself, although Meltokio might say differently. He was sure she was scrutinizing him the same way before she broke away and looked to the window.

"Well, you just looked like you weren't going to budge unless you had something," she muttered.

"What was that?" He almost hadn't caught it.

"N-nothing. If you don't want to get this over with, I'm going to get behind on my work..."

"You'll be fine," he assured.

They waited in silence for the remainder of the time it took Orochi to bring the soup, and even then, the only sound was Zelos's attempt at respectful slurping. Orochi looked a little pale returning to his corner in silence.

He stared down the last bits of the soup in its traditional bowl, then looked up at Sheena. "So, there's this trip."

"... A trip?" she repeated.

"Yep." He finished the soup with one unceremonious gulp, and set the bowl down in front of him. "Seconds?"

Sheena waved her hand in front of her face. "Forget about seconds! What do you mean, a trip? Were you thinking you were going on one?"

"What do you mean, 'what do you mean?' Nothing to mean. The trip's just a trip. Gotta make some good publicity, too," Zelos rambled. "I can see it now. Who's that guy in the papers? " _The Great Chosen's Journey Across the Countries_ , by Friedrich Callon. _A gleaming knight—_ no— _The Chosen of Prosperity's coat of arms glitters in the sun_ —"

“What are you going to do about your duties?” Sheena asked, point-blank. She was sitting forward, more formally than ever.

“Duties?” he echoed. He could feel the stiff air enveloping him.

“I mean,” Sheena clarified, “Even if the whole... Regeneration is over, aren't you considered to be a leader?”

“Yeah, 'considered' to be...”

“So, there are things you've still gotta do, right? Ceremonies, peace treaties, dealing with internal government, being Tethe'alla's ambassador... stuff like that? Um... you know, fighting for... what am I thinking of?” She looked sidelong to Orochi.

The second-in-command was quick to jump in. “Justice?”

“Justice! That's it,” Sheena finished. “Giving the people what they need.”

Zelos shifted, uncomfortable sitting on his shins. “Uh, well, you know... I _do_ do that, and all... But even someone as energetic as I am can get tired every once in a while,” he explained. “And do you really think I've done a great job as an ambassador, Sheena? You know what I'm talking about, Orochi.”

Orochi coughed. “Well, it, ah... it's as you say.”

“Precisely! And with Tethe'alla and Sylvarant being all united and not in need for that little human sacrifice thing, the Chosen system will be phased out forever. Right? Might as well jump ship while I still can!”

“Completely irresponsible as ever, aren't you?” Sheena snorted. 

“Heh. That might be it,” Zelos hinted. If by “phased out,” he meant “forcefully assassinated by uninformed terrorists who simultaneously kill everyone in Meltokio,” that was right. _Irresponsible_. Was it irresponsible to remove himself from that situation? He took a deep breath. “I mean, a lot of things will might better this way, in the end.”

He saw that she was staring at him intently. “So? What, you really did _just_ swing by to say hello before heading out?”

Without missing a beat, Zelos shouted, “Yep!”

“... And?” Sheena continued to stare at him like he was a sewer rat with the head of a goat. Or something more provincial—he guessed they didn't have as many sewers out here.

“A....and?”

“The advice,” Sheena said. “That's the other thing you wanted?”

“Ohhhhhh, _that_ advice! The advice I advised you to advise me! That advice, riiight,” Zelos searched. Well, with Orochi sitting there, he was only going to get so much leverage. It'd be two-against-one no matter what was said around here because she dared not disrespect her village. But he was sitting in the corner...

“Can you come a little closer?” he asked, leaning forward.

“Um—”

“I mean, it's not something I can say out loud,” he announced, tossing a look Orochi's way. He lowered his voice, “Either send out your wrong-hand man over there, or give me your ear—you choose!”

Sheena almost looked at Orochi, but instead lurched forward and offered her left ear. “All right, go ahead.”

He thought about saying something actually perverted to see how she'd react. Would she keep her cool? Would Orochi, if he knew what was being said? Perhaps it would be better to goof off a little, yes. “Oh, it's just,” Zelos started. Then he blew the rest of the air in his lungs straight into her ear.

Sheena didn't slap him, but she did scream, fly across the room, and guard her ear with her hand, her face entirely red.

Zelos laughed so hard he could have puked. And when that ebbed and she was still fuming, he said, “Hah! Oh, man, from the look on your face, it looks like I've found an erogenous zone—!”

“Y—you jackass!” she howled. “You're going to pay for this!” She turned the meeting table sideways and pushed it to the wall to leer over him. Before he even knew it, she'd whipped out a seal—from where?!—and had begun to chant her ancient Mizuhoan spell. This was much worse than the foot-in-the-face he'd anticipated.

“Whoa—whoa—hey! Time out! Time out! I-won't-do-it-again-I-promise—SHEENA!” He fell to his side to curl up in a protective ball, still suppressing laughter. “Sorrysorrysorrysorry, I said I'm SORRY! I surrender!” At that point, the card was gone, but Sheena was still looming and poised to strike. Man, she was pretty when she was angry. And if she was that angry, did it mean there was a grain of truth, there? Only one way to find out.

“... wow, you really can't take a joke!” he muttered, sitting back up.

“GET. TO. THE POINT,” she demanded.

Zelos looked at Orochi, who was sitting bemusedly. “Fine, fine, the point is... It's not really advice, more like company. Wanna join me?”

“J... join you." 

“On the trip!”

“The... trip? _That_ trip?"

“Won't you please join me in my travels?” he asked, bowing slightly. There was the adrenaline again. It wasn't often he asked for something, much less from Sheena. She had to have known how difficult it was for him to get that out, right?

Sheena slowly sat down and continued to look at the floor.

"Don't make that face,” he rambled. “When I say 'trip' I don't mean something short and definite. We could head north, or go wherever the wind takes us. Doesn't even matter. We could find a nice spot to relax at the hot springs, or go eat the day's catch at the coast! Seriously, eat until we puke and drink the local potion 'til we die! Doesn't that sound like the best time of your life? We should just go have some fun, y'know?"

Sheena's flabbergasted stare revealed thoughts between _are you kidding me_ and _didn't you get this out of your system in your party days_.

"I could go by myself, but it just wouldn't be the same without my number one hunny. Imagine poor old me, far from home and all alone," he sang pitiably. "Come onnnnn, it isn't like you to be so quiet when I'm talking like –"

It wasn't Sheena, but Orochi who rose to his feet. "I've had enough. You must leave," the disciple ordered. Though his tone was even, his hands gripped his hips tensely. Zelos had to admit that he didn't remember anyone standing over him like this since his father was alive. Wasn't like anyone would hold him accountable.

"Chosen One," Orochi continued. "Immediately."

Zelos took his time to stand and meet Orochi eye-to-eye (although Zelos's eyes were undoubtedly a few inches higher up than the Mizuhoan's). "Well gee, what's got your panties in a bunch? Feelin' feisty today, are we?"

Sheena sat motionless atop the woven mats, not tearing her eyes away from the floor.

"Unlike some leaders I know, the Chief of Mizuho has a strong sense of responsibility," Orochi spat through bared teeth.

Zelos felt a spike of excitement. Orochi kind of resembled his brother when he got angry, didn't he? "Hah! Strong sense of responsibility," he implied. Some responsibility Kuchinawa had. "So what? It's not like I need you to tell me what Sheena's like. I know her from head to toe! And I really mean that, by the way." Zelos leaned forward and wrought his mouth into a contemptuous grin.

"I cannot allow you to disgrace Sheena that way!" Orochi shouted. From thin air, he drew two fists full of throwing knives.

Zelos popped his sword up from its hilt with his thumb, coolly as ever. "I can't wait until she sees your true colors, you—"

"ENOUGH!"

Sheena had slammed her fist to the ground and rattled the air with her voice. It was enough for Orochi to retreat his weapons momentarily.

"Zelos," she continued, "I get what you're trying to say."

"Oh, good! Glad to see we're done here," Zelos eagerly replied, freeing his hand from his sword and waving it in the air.

"But how can you call yourself a man?"

As Sheena's head lifted, Zelos connected a confused look. "Wh... what...?"

"I can't say I comprehend what it means to be the Chosen. You didn't choose the burdens that come with that title. But what I don't get," Sheena paused, "I don't get how you keep wanting to throw it away. When are you going to learn that the people of the world still need you, especially now?! How long is it going to take for you to do your duty?"

Boy, didn't she know how to hit below the belt. Zelos could feel his ears burning, but bless that red hair for keeping his secret. Coming from anyone else, that line would have meant nothing. But here he was, sitting in the very place of her business goings-on, feeling very small under the hostile eyes of Orochi. Had it come down to this already?

Being held accountable wasn't something Zelos had anticipated. Even Sebastian let him get away with near-murder and tossed it out with a joke and a knowing look. Perhaps some weight sat in what Lloyd had to say when it came to responsibility—especially considering how trusting Lloyd was able to be in the face of betrayal itself. But when Lloyd spouted justice and righteousness and loyalty and all the other stuff, it was just that: spouting. Not really from a place of analysis or experience. But Sheena...

And who the hell was she to talk? The one who ran away from Volt? Were we forgetting this, here? Zelos tried to clamber his way up the slippery slope of ill logic. It wouldn't make him feel strong within the confines of this city. There was that old tug.

"If you wanna call yourself a man, you'd better get your act together and take a hold of your future already!"

He stared past her head like a schoolboy.

Well, fine, then.

"My bad! Can't believe I'd fall for that. So uncool, right?" he laughed through his mask. He about-faced and headed for the too-low-for-foreigners door. "I'll be outta your hair. Maybe I'll bring you back a souvenir. Y'know, you should keep an eye out while you're on duty!"

He was almost gone when he heard a small, porcelain, "You think... a souvenir...?" So he looked back, really hoping he wouldn't see her expression.

"I just don't have the guts. Not cut out for it. So good luck to you; do your best." 

Again with his back to her, he heard her continue: " _I_ do my best without being told. I'm not like you."

Zelos paused and considered fighting it, but she was right. And if she wasn't going to help him get through this, then let her stay. He showed himself out, barely muttering a farewell; embarrassed, raw, exhausted.

But the great escape had to begin somewhere.

 


	2. I've Got A Feeling

**2\. I'VE GOT A FEELING**

“ _Behind the Bomb  
Friedrich Callon of the_ _New World_ _Times_

_Fireworks dazzle the star-freckled night sky as attendees of the first annual Carnivale look up with expectant eyes. Streaks of green and blue and red glitter around slivers of clouds. But a beeping sound pervades the summer's-end air—it's a bomb, rising higher and higher until it explodes amongst the starry heaven! Such was the scene this previous Saturday in Meltokio's Lower Square when an  attack was narrowly evaded._

_During the fireworks show, thousands of Tethe'allans from all classes were shocked to see a bright flash of light that didn't fit the typical firework stencil. As our sources would have it, a mystery bomber attempted to endanger the lives of this great country's citizens. The bomb had been placed deep within the inner wall of the city._

_Several_ ninja _agents from Mizuho were at the scene._

_'We're just doing our job to protect the denizens of Tethe'alla,' said O-san, who is involved with the newly developed Tethe'allan Mizuho Information Network (TMIN). He states that the reconnaissance mission was spurred by an anonymous tip from someone likely involved with the bomber._

_In conjunction with the bombings, one suspect has been detained. The suspect goes by the name 'Bomb Wizard' and is a 76-year-old male with a manic mental disorder. He is currently being held at the Palace Prison awaiting investigation and prosecution. However, given his condition, can this man truly be the sole suspect in this case?_

_Even more suspicious on the eve of Carnivale was the absence of Tethe'alla's Chosen One, Zelos Wilder. There exists no report of his being present at Carnivale despite the glamorous and deceptive costumes worn by all. Is there a correlation between the bomb and the absence of the Chosen? Could it be that the Chosen is conspiring with the Sylvaranti, given his ties to Sir Bud Irving? One thing is for certain: the first Carnivale will surely never be forgotten, and we hope that the tradition of a bomb will never recur._ ”

Sebastian read the headline again. “Behind the Bomb.” Not the best work for someone who was supposed to report news and not scandalize it. Still, he folded it over and placed it neatly on the granite counter top so that he could save it for Zelos to see. Vain as he was, the boy liked to read articles that condemned rather than praised him. Sebastian was faithful to those wishes since the birth of the _New World Times_ earlier that year.

He glanced out the window, where Manuelo the gardener was pacing and pointing things out to his subordinates. They'd have to rip out the entire far corner and start anew.

Sebastian sighed at the charred branches that had drifted to the near edge of the lawn. Shame that old cherry blossom was gone. His late wife's favorite. It was just a sapling when the former head of the Wilder household had it transplanted from Sebastian's backyard. Sometimes, Pyrios had been a decent boss. A terrible man; but a decent boss.

The things he'd put his children through, though...

When the maid showed up for her shift, Sebastian wondered if he should warn her about the mess in the backyard. Not that she would be involved in espionage—imagine a 52-year-old bent-over woman attempting it—but it could bring suspicion upon the household. She'd become frightened, perhaps; she'd inform the authorities, and then the Estate would begin to increase security until it was seized by the government. Eventually, the government could get them all.

Sebastian knew.

Zelos didn't have to write it anywhere but his face for Sebastian to know. But a butler is a butler, and when the master of the house decides to run away for an indeterminate amount of time, discretion paid more than worry. Perhaps Zelos would be having a tête-à-tête with his sister in the South East Abbey. But no—there was no way the nuns wouldn't have contacted Sebastian by now if that weren't the case.

Sebastian could only hope that Zelos hadn't run away alone and was in the company of the _good_ friends and not the barmaids or the gamblers. The note he'd left was inconclusive.

When he looked out the window again, the space had been cleared out and there were no signs of charring aside from a bit of bald land in the center of the impact. He'd have to prepare for a few more empty weeks. 

* * *

For such a cool summer's end day, the palace's receiving room seemed suffocatingly hot. What did they call it, a “moist” heat? Sheena's forehead was beading with sweat already and they'd only been in there for a few minutes. How did the King stand it? In those stuffy robes, he had to have been dying of heat exhaustion. Maybe not “dying,” per se—that hurdle was already cleared. Maybe he had some sort of mana-powered fan under there. Or maybe the throne had a cooling device, thus explaining why he was sitting during this meeting.

… What was he going on about again? The King's eyes glossed over Sheena and she tried to look attentive.

“As you know, there are many systems of belief springing up in the newly united world. There are those who would believe, I suppose, that all evil and suffering exist because a single accursed being is evoking them...”

It made sense. The King had been talking about what happened a couple days ago at Carnivale with the Bomb Wizard. As it turned out, a “Wizard” he was not. However, he was a technician being manipulated by an anonymous group of people. Someone from the King's guard must have begun investigations for the King to come to the conclusion that it was religious.

Religion and faith were topics Sheena hadn't dared to breach since the Regeneration tour's end. She used to believe; even prayed at the temples for Martel's help with her mission to assassinate Colette. Obviously, that didn't work out, and she'd wondered why. But it became clear by the end of their journey. You can't beat meeting a goddess only to find out she's only a well-preserved half-elf. Tabatha, too—the doll who'd taken Martel's place in guarding the new World Tree—she wasn't much of a goddess, either. What did being a “god” mean? Sheena's only contact with the ethereal involved Summon Spirits, whom she considered to be more friends than gods, Volt aside.

The Volt incident itself had been the first time her faith was shaken. Mizuho had its own religious system wherein Martel was a goddess, but there were other holy spirits as well that were equally revered. But after it had been explained to Sheena that she was “adopted” into Mizuhoan society, she wondered if it was her faith to share. Volt only disrupted that more. After all, how could something as powerful as a Summon Spirit not understand her prayers? Why would it kill her kinsmen in a rage so that blame would be upon her? When years later the same spirit took Corrine's life, it only solidified Sheena's doubt.

Beside her, Sheena's companion replied to the King. “Do you think that bombing could have been related to a new religion?” he asked solemnly.

Sheena took solace in the fact that neither Orochi nor the King knew that the “goddess” had been replaced. That was the unspoken rule created by Colette after the naming of the new Tree. In Sylvarant, there were many reasons to cling to Cruxis and the Chosen, so Colette knew it might be better not to spread around the rumor that there was “no” goddess. It was something Tethe'alla's Chosen probably never had to deal with, especially considering he viewed the religion from all sides of its corruption. The irony didn't escape her—that someone so anti-Cruxis could rise to become a “seraph” behind the scenes.

But they knew, they all knew; Lloyd and the rest. Just... if the people of the united world found out, or were in the process of finding out, Sheena wouldn't want to be the one to oppose them.

It was a wonder that this new “group” believed in something “accursed.” Religion and fear hadn't been shaped by dark beings since the days of the elves with the legend of Niflheim. What could possibly be the source? Her mind ran over the mishaps in Palmacosta, Luin, and the human ranches all over Sylvarant. But those things were  within Sylvarant; they had nothing to do with Tethe'alla.

How could Tethe'alla in its entirety become a scapegoat for provincial disasters? If the King had been the scapegoat, surely the Papal Knights would be lining this very room from shoulder to shoulder. That  wasn't so. Meltokio; what was specifically in Meltokio that would be “accursed” if not for the King? The researchers at the lab? Coliseum matches with monsters?

“It is probably related to a religion,” the King continued, unhindered. “And since we have only begun to gather evidence of the group behind the Bomb Wizard incident, I wish to entrust you with an investigation. Would you accept this task?”

“We shall accept, your Majesty,” Orochi said quickly. He brought his arm across his chest dutifully.

Then the dots connected. There was only one person in Meltokio whose title meant nothing, whose figurehead status was grating on the lower classes, and whose life might be threatened if dangerous parties obtained information that the Cruxis-made system was a fraud.

Sheena had just begun to lower her head in reverence when she felt a jolt in her gut. In addition to the heat, that feeling almost sent her running to the nearest basin.

“Your Majesty, if you wouldn't mind... the 'accursed' being... it wouldn't happen to be...” Sheena's voice trailed, but when she received no feedback, she snapped her head up to look straight at the King. “Your Majesty?”

“Tethe'alla's Chosen.”

“But how—?” Orochi's shock only caused Sheena to look away.

Her breath was knocked out of her. “How can you call yourself a man,” she'd said. “Get your act together and take a hold of your future already,” she'd said. “I'm not like you,” she'd said. In the rewound tape of her mind, Zelos's expressions were avoidant and odd. It was almost like that time before the Tower of Salvation.

She should have known better. She should have noticed he was acting differently! She invoked his name to the dead air. “Zelos...”

“Yes, Zelos Wilder is being targeted.”

Sheena watched Orochi's mouth as he assured the King that the investigation would proceed immediately. The words weren't making sense. Neither were the robotic bows and exits. It was just a haze, and emerging back into the sunlight didn't cut through any of it.

The two scouts walked across the even stones of the nobles' level, then to the middle grounds, then took the gate out of Meltokio before Orochi broke the silence.

“What's wrong?” he goaded. “You haven't said a word since we were in the King's throne room.”

Sheena slowly turned her head, but didn't say anything. Hypocrisy haunted her. That time at the Otherworldly Gate...  Zelos had been the one to pull her away, knowing that it'd be futile. He was the only one to stick up for her when she didn't realize she needed help. Orochi's voice reminded her of that, somehow...

“Sheena... it's because of him, isn't it?”

She finally looked at Orochi. “Yes,” she answered simply.

“Well, the Chosen One—Zelos—he's being targeted by a group of terrorists, and if he were to stay put for too long, he'd end up involving innocent people,” Orochi tried to rationalize. Sheena winced.

“He must've known that, and so he set out on that trip of his,” Orochi continued. “It won't be an easy journey. The terrorists surely know that he's left the city and will pursue his life at all costs.”

Sheena let her thoughts override Orochi's words. “And by doing that, he's trying to get them away from the city, away from everyone.”

“And he didn't take a single companion despite the danger. Why is that?”

Sheena let a conflicted puff of air escape her lungs. “Because he's an idiot,” she replied. But she promptly cut herself off to recover from the sting that rushed to her eyes. Turned away swiftly. “Only an _idiot_ would do that. He just keeps acting like he's some lone wolf. He pushes everyone away like it's the right thing to do...”

Sheena clenched her fists. He'd come for her. He wanted to take her. He'd felt safe having her around for some reason. But her, _only_. And what did she do? Couldn't read him, couldn't tell. Pushed him away before he came up with the words.

Now he was gone without having asked, leaving her confused and sad and—did she mention confused?

“He's just so stubborn... He'll just keep pushing people away to the very end... Wh-what a stupid idiot!” she gasped. She stuck her tongue to the roof of her mouth as hard as she could, but the tears were welling up and over. Blinking only sent angry trails down her cheeks that she tried to erase with balled-up hands.

Suddenly, Orochi's hand was on her tensed shoulder. “Go,” he said simply.

“... What?” Faintly, a ghost of a thought.

“I'll take care of the village. Just go,” he urged. The resolved look on his face reminded Sheena of the awkward conversation they'd had just days prior. If Orochi was letting her go to Zelos, he must have been sincere when he'd said he wants only the best for her. Dutiful love for a leader or something more? She was lucky to have him regardless.

“B... but...”

“The village, what the King requested we do, and the investigation of the terrorists—I've got your back.”

“But...!” Sheena wrenched his hand away.

“But nothing. You spent the last year being the leader Mizuho needed. If you need a break now and then to return to living as 'Sheena' instead of 'Chief,' I know of nobody who would complain,” Orochi soothed.

Sheena took and held a deep breath, willing herself not to let another tear fall. “Orochi—” she began.

“Go,” he chided, glancing in the distance.

“Th-thank you. Thank you, Orochi!” Sheena yelped. 

She turned without looking at him and faced “north, or where the wind” would take her. Walking quickly turned to jogging, then to running. She left Orochi standing in the field with an empty-sounding, “I'm sorry” echoing behind her. Whether it was for Orochi or Zelos, Orochi was left wondering before he continued on the path to Mizuho.

 

* * *

The fork in the road gave only two options: west to Sybak, or north toward the Forest of Death. What choices, eh? He felt like he'd made this decision before on a bleak winter's day. Instead of becoming some rooted, charred thing, he chose the path of knowledge. He'd choose it again, but much less strictly.

Zelos raised an eyebrow; he was being followed. It wasn't the heavy footsteps of men, although this assassin was bound to be somewhat clumsy if she could be heard.

“Well, well, well,” he announced to the air. “Looks like there's a major decision. Which road shall I take?”

Zelos made a sweeping motion with his index finger and began to point between the two roads. “Eeny meeny miney mo... Catch a spider by the toe...”

“If he hollers, let him go,” another voice chimed in.

Zelos smiled.

“Eeny meeny miney mo,” he concluded. He turned around to face his stalker and swung his elbow up behind his head. “Well, well. Looks like I’m supposed to go left. But now that I think about it, I’d rather go right—as long as that girl waiting by the tree doesn’t mind that I’m messing with the rules of 'Miney Mo.'”

“Not at all,” the stalker called back. She began to walk toward him, pink tails of her obi fluttering in the wind; like an oasis, not quite believable in her mirth.

There were so many things Zelos could have said. Self-righteous; “I knew you'd cave.” But he didn't really expect her to join him. Moreover, he didn't expect her to find him so quickly after he stormed out like that.

That's exactly why it had to be her, though. Lloyd wouldn't have taken him seriously, or would have realized far too late. Having Seles or Sebastian with him would have made him an easier target. He couldn't think of a reason for Regal to fight tooth and nail for his survival.

Sheena found him, and that was the best answer he could get. When she reached his side, Zelos extended his hand, but she laughed and pushed it away.

“All right, then. Let's get a move on, _princess_ ,” Zelos said flatly.

“… Hope I don’t regret this,” Sheena said under her breath. Zelos was about to protest in a loud, brazen manner, but found when he looked over at her face that she was still smiling. A joke.

“What was that?” he asked anyway.

“Ah—! Nothing. Let’s be on our way!”

With the sun in their eyes, the pair of them continued down the simple road toward Sybak. Zelos briefly wondered whether he should have worn a less heavy disguise, but his thoughts were interrupted by Sheena's enthusiastic question.

"So where are we headed, exactly?"

"Tch, some ninja skills you have. We'll be hitting up Sybak if we continue on this way!" Zelos chirped.

"College town," Sheena mused. "How are we going to keep the barely-legal women from crawling all over you?"

Zelos skipped ahead of her. "Already thought of that! It mostly involves me wearing a disguise. You might have to not namedrop for a little while."

Sheena looked as though she was going to  _not_ trust him for a teensy second, but realized that there was nothing he could do that would have been worse than letting himself die for the sake of Cruxis. "Fine, fiiiiine."

Once she matched his walking pace, Zelos flung an arm around her shoulder. "See that beautiful sunset?" She grunted. "That means it'll be nighttime soon. We'd better go a little faster if we don't want to sleep in the open tonight."

"… So this is going to be like the Regeneation journey, isn't it?"

"Whether we're sleeping outside or hopping around hostels, I promise, this is going to be so great!" Zelos proclaimed.

But then, he made Sheena nearly stumble as he stopped her with both hands on her shoulders. With a serious tone, he said, "Oh, but before we get too far along, I need to get something straight. I thought of some rules for the trip. Nothing big..."

"You? Rules? Let me call the newspaper. I think this is a first," Sheena quipped. She didn't budge against his hands.

"You wound me. I'm kinda being serious," Zelos replied.

"... Again, I think this could be a first!"

"—Would you let me say it already?"

"Be my guest."

"We can't stay anywhere for more than one night. No matter how great it is. That's the rule," Zelos stated.

Sheena tilted her head. "That's it?"

"It's going to be less easy than you'd imagine. No matter how much you wanna stay somewhere, we can't be spotted there for longer than one night. No cozy sleeping in or getting friendly with the locals." Zelos paused for a moment. "Or sleeping with the locals, now that I think about it."

Sheena laughed hollowly. "I really think that was more for you."

"You, me, whoever. I'm just saying. One night, then move on. You got it?" Zelos took a step back and crossed his arms.

"I got it," Sheena huffed. “Anything else?”

“You're the guest, here,” Zelos reminded.

“... What about... How are we going to deal with laundry? Meals; who's cooking?” Upon seeing Zelos's still face, she sighed. “You haven't thought about any of this, have you?”

“Well, up until now, I wasn't expecting to have a companion,” Zelos explained.

Sheena looked at him while counting on her fingers. “So, cooking should be alternating every day for who-makes-what, I think. Dishes, whoever didn't do the cooking. And laundry... if you don't do anything weird, we can split that every few days,” she decided. “Oh, and... no doing anything weird. That's my rule.”

Zelos rolled his eyes in a playful flash. “As if you have anything I haven't seen before.” Sybak was the very place where Sheena had forgotten to lock the bathroom door, after all.

Sheena turned bright red. “Yeah, like that. Don't be weird!”

“I'll try my best! But you can always leave if you don't feel comfortable.”

Sheena concentrated on the sunset. Even if he acted weird, she couldn't leave him traveling like this on an open road with the threat of being murdered at every turn. Anything he'd ever done to make her feel embarrassed had been a joke, in the end. She thought of his breath on her ear.

“It's fine,” she barked.

“Well, then, let's go to Sybak. I figure we can get a room for the night pretty cheap, and then worry about sleeping outside after that. After all,” Zelos indicated, “you haven't brought anything with you.”

“Well—I—until now, I wasn't planning on being your companion, either. Like you said,” Sheena echoed. She hadn't been coming from the direction of Mizuho, that's for sure.

“... I won't ask,” Zelos resolved. “You know what they say. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth!”

“ _Wh-what_ did you just call me?!” Sheena fumed.

Zelos switched between laughter and begging for his life as dark overcame the sky.

* * *

In Sybak, the air hummed with music from a block party. Instead of lonely patches of light only being emitted from the library, there were towering stadium lights revealing the entire town square. The band was playing somewhat badly at the nearby wall. Off in the distance a bit, the bazaar had expanded to cover about half of the space. It was a lazy crowd that milled through the lanes of stalls. Teenagers spilled their plastic cup courage onto the stones, carelessly as ever. When Zelos surveyed them through his mask, the years had changed researchers who used to be peers into indistinguishable children.

Some guy strutting around in a long knit hat was distributing a drink that he called “Disaster.” Sheena had asked, “What's even in this?” But before she could protest, an overflowing cup was shoved into her gesturing palm. The kid in the knit hat pushed a cup on Zelos, too, and the crowd around them began to carry the traveling duo closer to the bazaar.

In a pocket of unoccupied space, Sheena frowned into her cup. The color was a dank green-orange; altogether muddled in comparison to wines and potions from bars and store-bought bottles. She'd never seen anything like it. “Wow, this looks like—hey, you're not seriously going to drink it, are you?”

That sidelong smile. He'd been there before, with drinks mixed way too strong. His trick was never to drink more than your companions. That way, you could always have the upper hand, if that's what you're looking for.

Zelos brought the cup to his mouth and took a hearty swig. He paused; looked around, then down at himself, then back at her. “It's not poisoned. I think we'll be fine.”

“H-how do you expect me to drink this?”

Sheena's eyes traced from the drink to a group of dancers who weren't so much moving to the music as thrashing around. She looked back at Zelos. Even in that ridiculous cloak, he looked more like himself than ever. Smug grin on his face. Not-quite-wholesome twinkle in his eye.

“We can play a drinking game,” he suggested with a lilt.

“Uhh—that's not really what I was...”

Zelos settled his weight in one hip. “You used to beat Lloyd every time during the Regeneration.”

Sheena sighed. It was true, although she'd been much more in drinking shape back then due to her regimen of Igaguri training—building up resistance to various poisons. “Then, truth or dare,” she offered. “Or swallow a thousand needles.”

“Man, what's with you Mizuhoans and your stomachs of steel?” Zelos griped.

“If you want, you can just drink mine. I'd much rather shop for supplies, seeing as I don't even have a toothbrush on me!”

“No, no! Let's play. I'll go first: Truth or dare?” Zelos conceded.

Sheena rolled her eyes. “It's way too early in the night for truth. Dare.”

Zelos glanced around the bazaar. “I dare you to...” He paused, laughing to himself. “Drink that in one sip!”

“Oh, come on...”

She held on to that memory of Orochi when he'd been so patiently persuading her to follow her heart. _You didn't have to do this_ , she told herself. _There's a reason._

“Chug! Chug!” Zelos chanted.

Sheena took a deep breath, then took the rim of the cup to her mouth. Ugh, it smelled like molasses. But she wasn't going to lose a dare to him this early in their journey.

Upending the cup swiftly, Sheena swallowed as much of the “Disaster” as she could. Almost immediately, her stomach began to swim. The mixture wasn't unlike medicine as it burned its way down. When she opened her eyes, she saw Zelos was sipping from his drink as well.

“H-hey! You can't drink! You didn't tell me a truth!” Sheena shouted.

“Oh, was I supposed to?” Zelos asked sarcastically. He proceeded to finish the contents of his cup and place it on the ground—so she wouldn't have the change to smack it away.

“—Z—Ch—Argh! You idiot! I can't even yell at you in public...”

“Fine. Here's my truth. You're adorable when you're angry.” With a smile, he began to walk past her and toward the nearest stall, an arms dealer.

“HEY!” Sheena shouted. He was either drowning her out with the student band's music or choosing not to listen, but it enraged her nevertheless. In a city with this many people, when it was just the two of them and she, completely unarmed; why was he going back to being that same old jerk?

She gulped down the dregs of her “Disaster” and—perhaps out of spite, perhaps out of haste—threw her cup on the ground as well.

When she caught up to her companion, he was admiring a shield with a mirror shine. In the reflection, Sheena watched her own expression. She was ready to shout at the top of her lungs at him, but the shield started to bend and blur. Even the edge of anger held a pleasant buzz. Instead of lashing out with her usual hammer-fisted bashing, she ended up mesmerized by the shield, then by all the weapons.

With the world a little dulled, Sheena's change purse became lighter. First, she picked up a satchel with—and she wouldn't like them in the morning—leather tassels, and somewhere they'd been selling organic soaps.

… What a pretty hair comb. Not for actually combing hair, but just to adorn it. Where did that come from?

Suddenly, Zelos had gone off, “Gotta pick up some...” Muffled by the crowd.

“... Okay...”

She found herself staring at a case of jewelry. It shone as though it were the sun itself, which in retrospect meant that one of those tall stadium lights was hitting the glass at the right angle.

There were bangles and necklaces, but those were things Sheena rarely wore. They got in the way. Now, rings could be worn under anything and wouldn't make noise. Rings could store gels and poisons. She had them on the last journey, so why not this one?

“Those ones,” Sheena slurred, pointing at the red and blue gems. The shopkeeper lifted them from the display case and placed them on the counter. “How much?”

“I'll give the pretty little lady a deal,” the shopkeeper said. “50 gald for both. I won't budge.”

“'S no problem, I need some sort of souvenir!” She fished for coins in her pocket and made sure to trace the rim of each one to ensure it was the right amount. She set them down on the counted and swiped the rings in the same motion.

“Heeey, whatcha got there?”

Sheena looked over her shoulder and noticed that Zelos had found her among the crowd and was now peeking to see what she'd purchased.

“It's none of your beeswax,” Sheena dismissed, and pocketed the red and blue rings just as swiftly as she'd bought them.

Zelos surfed his eyes across the merchandise and traced a finger along the counter. “Ahhhh, so it's jewelry milady wants!” he said to her. “I wouldn't have expected for you to act so feminine at a time like this!”

“It's not like that. Let's just go look for what you wanted.”

“Ah, but wait!” When Zelos looked up again, Sheena had begun down the street to other vendors. Again looking to the display of rings, Zelos noted that there were two vacant slots in the topmost grouping.

“'Scuze me, sir,” Zelos addressed the shopkeeper. “She got the ones in that empty spot, right?”

“Indeed she did, my friend. The one right next to it is supposed to complete the matching set!” the shopkeeper replied. “She left so durn fast that I couldn't sell her on it. Couldn't help but give a pretty lady what she wants, I'm a useless salesman! What about you, though, eh? Looking to unite the pair?”

Zelos inspected the left-behind ring. It had a green gem set in gold. Cheap-looking in every way. He had rings of every variety back home that would exceed the value of this one by thousands of times. Yet, this plastic thing kept staring at him and begging him to reconsider. On any other day, he'd have been on his guard.

“Unite the pair, eh? Well, you know, the great—” He stopped short. “ _Such_ a great guy like me is all about uniting pairs, if you know what I mean,” he crooned instead.

The shopkeeper shared a laugh. “Ah, I see, I see. Well, value of it is 40 gald.”

Zelos raised an eyebrow but refrained from questioning him. “I suppose it'll have to do for now. My girl's run off!”

The shopkeeper extracted the ring carefully and placed it down. “40, then.”

Zelos grabbed a bill from his pocket, knowing that it was worth more than anything in that case of shoddy workmanship. He handed it to the man before taking the ring. “Keep the change and use it for some new tools,” he advised.

As Zelos turned and walked into the crowd, the shopkeeper looked up in shock. “H-hey! Just who are you to be throwing that around?!” he shouted somewhere between ecstatic and suspicious. But that's how Sylvaranti traveling salesmen people were when it came to those with money.

Sheena puttered around the stalls of the bazaar and wound up in one with weapon replicas before Zelos found her. On the wall, there were two crossed swords mounted on a wooden rack. “Hey, look! They have Lloyd's swords at the shop!” she shouted to him on approach.

Zelos jogged to close the distance and squinted at the wall. “Oh... Hey, swords of the eternal something-or-other!” he remarked.

“I can't believe they have them!” Sheena said excitedly.

“Me either, I guess.” What an interesting choice for a stall shop. It wasn't even an actual blacksmith's stall, just some wood-and-lacquer junk probably intended for kids. Zelos couldn't decide whether it was a slight or a blessing that his own sword wasn't included among the rest. Lloyd sure was getting pretty important around Tethe'alla. “Hey, come over here for a sec,” he suggested.”

“Did you find that thing?” Sheena asked in earnest. She must've been at that point in the night not to question what he was going to do. Ah, yes, drunk o'clock.

He took her by the arm into the middle of the path. “No, but trust me, this is going to be better. I thought of a way to get rooms really cheap!” he laughed. “But you _have_ to trust me and play along.”

“Just what are you going on about? I thought we were going to sleep outside!” Her genuine confusion added to his act.

“But, my _dear_ ,” he overemphasized. He jumped to his knee and took her hand. “I got you something!” Chuckling like a madman, he grabbed the cheap ring from his pocket and waved it around before her.

First Sheena stared. Then she laughed. Then the crowd started to stare.

“What, _that_?” she snorted.

“I saw you look at it from afar, and I knew my darling had to have it.” Zelos put it on her ring finger, but made sure it was the wrong one. When Sheena twisted her face in confusion, he put his finger to his lips.

“Darling,” he continued, “You're the only one for me! Please say yes!”

Members of the young crowd chattered feverishly. Oh, he had them in the palm of his hand. He stood and leaned into her ear. “They'll give us free stuff if you play along,” he whispered. “What do you say to that?”

“ _Yes_ ,” she shouted immediately, laughing and punching him in the arm.

The crowd cheered and clapped.

“Ah, she said yes! But what will we do? I spent the money for our hostel stay on your beautiful ring,” Zelos whined loudly. He leaned to his left and flashed a look of handsome despair.

“This is so wrong!” Sheena hissed through her fake smile.

Zelos felt a hand on his shoulder. When he turned, he saw a face that was familiar—in the way that any man's face was familiar, but not as distinct as the face of a woman. This man's face seemed familiar to a woman's in particular, though. From where? He supposed that this _was_ Sybak, and therefore anybody could have known him there. Back in the day, he'd asked so many girls to take notes for him in class.

“Hey, you look familiar!” the man said.

“You do, too—”

“You're the—!”

“HEY! Thanks for the congrats; do you think we could get a little privacy?” Sheena interrupted.

As Sheena pushed the Chosen into the more adoring part of the crowd, Zelos realized why the face was familiar. “His sister. His sister,” he said to himself. Janet, who studied with Countess Rattenmeier in Meltokio.

Janet hadn't even been in Meltokio for three years, but he'd heard her practicing every now and then. How had it come to pass that he could spot the face of her brother based on her face? How, indeed. He hadn't visited his own sister while she was conscious for a few months. The only nice thing he'd done for her in years was to switch out that Exsphere.

Zelos thought briefly about that round little weight on his chest. Better to have left it with Seles, who would need it. As he looked back to Janet's brother—Horatio? Something like that—he realized he'd put his hand up to cover the Exsphere. All the cloaking and masking and yet, he'd forgotten about that unique leech.

The alcohol-induced panic peaked when he felt someone bump into him. But luckily, it was somebody else's sister, or daughter at the very least, who was happy to extend the offer of empty dorm rooms to the pair of them. Not great, but it was the best they were going to get.

* * *

The next morning, Zelos met Sheena at the cafe in the back of the inn. They sat in the corner away from the sun, although autumn weather was creeping into the region and cooling every ray. Sybak's engineered coffee beans were becoming world-famous, so it made sense for young-looking to meet in one of their coffee houses—not in any way where a wanted man would hang out, Zelos reasoned.

“Morning, sunshine,” he grinned at her hangover-weary face.

“Bite me,” she growled. “Or rather, get me that pickled apricot drink from back home. These kids don't know how to make a cure.” She soothed her temples with her hands.

“Hey, where are your souvenirs?” Zelos pointed to her right hand, where the infamous rings were missing.

“Ughh... Don't remind me about my poor decisions. I threw 'em away.”

He laughed darkly. “Yeah, those were more of a bad joke than anything. But at least we got those rooms, eh?”

Sheena looked at the grain of the table purposefully. “Yeah, at least that...” She put a hand in her pocket. “So, where are we off to next?”

Zelos put his hand out in front of him. “I was thinking... we might rock-paper-scissors for it.” Fair; or, at least more human than flipping a coin.

“Oh, you mean _jan ken pon_?” Sheena repeated.

“Tch,” Zelos huffed. “You Mizuhoans. Whatever you want to call it.”

“ _Jan ken pon_ **is** what it's called.”

Zelos rolled his eyes. “You wanna win or not?”

Sheena set her elbow on the table and raised a fist. “I'm ready when you are.”

Their eyes locked with competitive spark. Then, of a sudden, Zelos shook his arm and began shouting, trying to override Sheena's provincial gameplay.

“ROCK—PAPER—SCISSORS—SHOOT!”

At the same time, Zelos shot his fingers out flat and Sheena quickly threw a scissors gesture.

“NOT FAIR!” Zelos groused. “Not fair. Redo!”

“It was one hundred percent fair! I won,” Sheena said, “and stop shouting.”

“I still want a redo.”

“What if we... just went wherever you wanted to go in the first place?” she suggested.

Zelos made an off-guard line with his lips. “Yeah... the problem with that is, I didn't decide where I wanted to go yet...”

“... you were waiting for me to say something so you could say the complete opposite, weren't you?” Sheena's face fell back into her hands and she sighed deeply.

“Maybe,” Zelos smirked. “Well? You got a place in mind, or am I going to have to force us into the Forest of Death?”

“Ugh, not there. What about... I haven't visited Luin in a long time.”

Zelos glanced at the glare in the far window. Its shadow had lowered even as they sat, which meant that the sun was climbing dangerously fast.

“I won't argue. Luin it'll be. But we'll need to get on that boat ASAP,” he noted.

Sheena nodded. “All right. Let's do that.” She took a breath, then swallowed hard. 

“Or maybe we'll wait until that Disaster settles,” Zelos added. Sheena slumped back down on the table and laughed.


	3. I Clear the Border

**3\. I CLEAR THE BORDER**

With the winds of the sea at their backs, Zelos and Sheena were heading inland toward Luin. It had been raining since noon and the clouds showed no sign of a clear sky. The roads proved a muddy mess, to speak nothing of the rickety, dirty boat that had floated them to the continent in the first place. “Damn hick provinces,” Zelos had said, and was then reminded by Sheena that, “These people just live a different life from what you're used to.”

Less than a week had passed since the attack on Meltokio. The chance meeting of that Janet kid's brother in Sybak echoed in Zelos's mind. Something in the kid's eyes wasn't quite right, like he'd been cut off before relaying important, unfinished business. Unfortunately for Zelos, the problem wouldn't be as simple as “You broke my sister's heart.” It'd be more like, “You aren't where you're expected to be,” which in this age of newspaper boom could mean a lot of trouble. It was lucky that not everyone outside of Meltokio recognized his face.

Still...

There was an unshakable feeling he had since they'd landed. Sheena said something about “sea legs.” He promptly stopped walking and turned around to see the path winding behind them.

From behind the tall bushes, a couple of rough-looking men emerged. Then, a couple more. More, until there were more than you could count on one hand and it suddenly looked very deliberate.

“Howdy there,” Zelos called under the tilted brim of his hat. “What're a bunch of punks like you doing in a place like this?”

The men didn't answer, but Sheena had taken a few slow steps to the side to cover Zelos's back. They weren't much the talking type, it'd seem, and now they were advancing quite quickly.

“What's with the scary faces? This is a public road, y'know. We travelers get annoyed with that sort of thing,” Zelos continued, lowering his tone.

One with a bandanna and a set of gnarled teeth spoke up. “Are you the one Tethe'alla calls the Chosen?”

Zelos almost rolled his eyes—as if he hadn't heard that before. Instead, he recalled a line he'd had used on him before. “Give me your name, and I shall give you mine."

Sheena, behind him, would have sighed but for the panic. They were outnumbered, by far. One, two, three, four to one. Times two.

“We have not a name to give you!” someone next to Bandanna declared.

Bandanna nodded. “We exist only to exterminate the Chosen from this world.”

“... in order to have a world built upon peace!” another shouted.

“We're volunteers who fight in the name of justice!”

“Hah. Justice, eh?” Zelos turned his head to the side. Terrorists, for certain. “Mix that with idiocy, and it's the worst combination.”

Sheena had already clutched a card between her fingers. “There are eight in all. They've got the advantage,” she hissed.

“Then I'll take five, and you take three,” Zelos decided.

“Four—I can take four,” Sheena argued.

“Look, don't overdo it—”

“Oh, just because I'm a woman!”

Zelos had to stifle a laugh. “I wasn't even thinking of the fact that you're a woman,” he countered, though the group of attackers didn't have a feminine face among them.

“Ah—here they come!” Sheena warned.

Bandanna charged forward with a staggering gait. “Forward, for the sake of a bright tomorrow!”

All of the bandits loosed their weapons with a ringing that seized the air. When Zelos took his own sword into his hand, he flipped it into the air and caught it. Sheena still hadn't made her first maneuver.

“Hey,” Zelos nudged.

“What?!”

“Now that I think of it, you could probably take out all of these guys on your own, huh?” he joked.

“Quit screwing around and watch your back!” Sheena shouted.

In a flash, Zelos turned and scrambled an incoming ax from the right. With her cover blown, Sheena boosted herself into the air. She landed her backflip just south of the other side of the pack.

“Hah!” she said, lifting her arms into the air. Not that she didn't practice acrobatics so sparsely that this was a rarity, but she had to pride herself that even in the mud she hadn't lost her footing.

All it took was that one sanctimonious moment.

One of the men, a youngish one, had skittered past Zelos and straight to her, and stuck a pin in her neck. Instinctively, Sheena's elbow went back to knock the wind out of the boy. But he'd gone, and was gloating his victory over her while the world spun. The inertia of her elbow was enough to send her falling sideways. Lucky for the mud, now, since a dry path would have meant dust and pebbles.

“Augh—”

Poison!

Upon hearing her cry, Zelos whipped around, being sure to knock one of the guy's heads with the butt of his sword along the way. There she was, plopped into the mud with some kid looking about Lloyd's age about to kick her.

“STAND DOWN!” he barked. Without thinking, he charged forward into a roll that would take him straight to her. But knowing that protecting her would just earn him a pretty bunch of slashes to the back, he left her lying on her side and went for the young man instead. He caught the boy's throat and wrenched him into a choke hold with the silver blade biting skin.

And, maybe just for effect, he poured what mana he had left into the Exsphere to force out a hollower version of his angel wings.

“You accursed being! Let go of him!” the man shouted. His tone was harsh, the kind that made your ears rust if it kept going. Bandanna threw his weapon (a rusted farming tool, looked like) and it landed just to the side of Zelos's feet. Zelos scraped the thing under his foot and pushed it deep into the muck.

The caught kid could only whimper and thrash at his hold.

“What did you put in her system?” Zelos demanded. “What was that?”

Bandanna growled. “She's down. It's a fair fight.”

“What was it? What kind of poison?”

“If you were any kind of Chosen, you'd have realized by now,” another man challenged.

Sheena had gone down fast, almost instantaneously. Only a few kinds of venom could do that so quickly, and just the same kinds of venom could kill in minutes. He didn't have time for this.

“I'm proving just the kind of Chosen I am by not killing this kid,” he spat. He pressed the blade harder, but not enough to cause a lasting mark. After all, the young man's blood wasn't a priority.

“Let go of him!” Bandanna ordered.

“Or what? Your weapon's right under my foot,” Zelos said. He stomped on the handle of the tool to break it. “Now you know this fight isn't fair for either of us.”

Bandanna clenched his lips while his lackeys looked on.

“Let me give her an antidote, and this kid will live to see another day,” Zelos threatened. The rain turned cold on his forehead. “Listen, she didn't choose this.”

A man laughed. “A foreign bride bought against her will?”

Zelos sneered. “Think what you will. This woman's worth more than all your lives combined, and not just because she's with me. If you let me make sure she doesn't die from this kid's cheap-ass shot, I'll give you a real fight.”

“Meaning what, exactly?” Bandanna asked.

“Meaning,” Zelos hummed. “I'll fight every single one of you by myself. I am the Chosen, after all.”

“I'm beginning to doubt that you are, in fact, the Chosen.” The moment in between was almost too thin. “But if you want to prove you're a man, you'll do it without that little sword of yours.”

Zelos looked down at the young man, who seemed a little blue. Holding a kid hostage was honestly something he hadn't done before, nor was it something he'd ever felt like he needed to do—until now, that is. He couldn't even tell if Sheena breathed under the blanket of rainfall. Every second away from life-saving gel was another second closer to death.

Suddenly, he was glad he hadn't thought of trying a healing circle. If these hicks were using hoes to fight, they wouldn't know about his second set of weapons.

“Deal,” he decided. He shoved the kid forward and leaped for the backpack that had been dropped on the ground. His sword yet pointed at the attackers as he scavenged with one hand for that little plastic bag. Panacea; it wasn't strictly a poison cure, but it'd have to do.

What the relationship the young man had to Bandanna, Zelos wasn't sure he'd know. He was too busy fiddling with the cap on the bottle when the kid was returned to see. He rushed to Sheena and checked her pulse quickly before putting the elixir to her lips and forcing it into her mouth.

“Come on, get it down,” he whispered to her. It was tricky to keep one eye on her and another eye on the terrorists when she could go sour at any moment.

Sheena, still unconscious, began to shake. Suddenly, all the training Zelos had ever gotten for medical emergencies vanished from his mind. All the Cruxis stuff, all the stuff with Seles. What was wrong with her? Could it be she was sick on top of this poison? The rain? His blood burned.

“Hey—hey!” he called. He put a hand on her side to make sure she wouldn't shimmy onto her back, which was the most he could think to do. “You! Bandanna,” he directed. “Where's the nearest place I can get her inside?”

The bandits looked to each other, silent.

“I said, WHERE is the nearest place? Don't you forget that your cheap shot of poison should have been for me. My life for hers, but you'll only get your chance if she lives!” he said, panicked.

“I... I know a place, just up the road a bit. That way. Might 'a been someone living there a while ago, but when we found it, it was abandoned,” one of the attackers confessed. He took off his hat, almost solemnly, and pointed it at the road ahead.

“Y'know, you've gone soft since your wife died,” Bandanna muttered.

Well, at least it would explain why they hadn't already put a knife through her chest. Thank god, if there was still one.

“Meet me there. Two hours. You have my word as the Chosen,” Zelos promised. He let his wings disappear.

“Sure 'nough,” Bandanna replied. The cowardly young man had ended up in between Bandanna and another man, pale and shaken. No harm done. Well, except maybe to his teeth, but that wasn't his fault so much as it was the fault of poor dental hygiene. Poor hygiene in general, these fellows.

Zelos picked Sheena up in a military carry and backed away, making sure not to turn his back to the terrorist group until they had shown a disinterest in their weaponry. Then it was time to high-tail it to the rest stop.

Somewhere along the way, Sheena had started to rouse. She gave a short moan.

“Oy, Sheena, just a little longer,” Zelos panted, trying to jog.

The men were right that the place was only a little way away, but a half-mile of carrying a poisoned woman plus the entirety of their supplies felt longer. It wasn't as though he could fly over there with that kind of cargo, and certainly not without the Cruxis Crystal. As Zelos neared the porch of a small cabin, he knelt and positioned Sheena on her feet.

"Sheena, can you help me walk you over?" he asked, knowing that she was still mostly in a stupor. He took a good look at her weary face, which was etched with perspiration even in the downpour.

"Nnngh..." Sheena wobbled.

"Eh, guess it's about that time. If you're gonna throw up the meds, do it now before I give you the second dose," Zelos instructed. She looked indecisive. “Do you wanna try?”

He propped her up over his arm when she leaned forward and obliged. The splash of vomit was tinged pink, a sign of bleeding in the stomach. The poison had to have been something from Sylvarant, as Sheena would have built up a little tolerance to everything available in Tethe'alla during her training days. Some root poison, perhaps.

After the second wave passed, Sheena coughed and gasped.

"Here," Zelos offered, hobbling her over to the wooden step to let her sit. The travel pack they'd brought was drenched through, but another bottle of Panacea was safe in its plastic pouch. Zelos popped the seal and held it to Sheena's mouth, cradling her head to make sure it wouldn't just be spit out. But Sheena swallowed the mix, wheezed a little, then slumped sideways. It was altogether different from taking Panacea during a normal battle. These guys weren't playing fair.

Zelos scooped her up and brought her inside.

What a cozy place it would have been if it weren't for the whole terrorist incident. There was a small kitchen in one corner which, while unequipped with food, had a few useful gadgets and a stainless steel bowl that might be good for a number of things. Zelos turned down the handmade-looking quilt on the bed in the opposite corner and helped Sheena sit, then lie down of her own volition. Still shaking, coughing.

What kind of person had lived in this house only to abandon it in this condition? He half-expected a decaying body in the corner in some rocking chair; a grandmother old in decay. No such apparition.

Zelos took to kitchen sink only to find that it was spitting yellow-brown water; he didn't know why he didn't expect that. Maybe it was the hope that this would all be resolved easily so he could get the terrorists to stay away until they were less wounded.

Sheena's voice rose through the noise of the rain overhead. "Zelos... Zelos?"

"Working on it, hunny," he called back, fumbling through the backpack for a bottle of water. It would have to do until he could figure out how to harness the rain. He rushed to sit at the foot of her bed.

"Just a little water," she croaked out. He helped her sip it, still smelling the acid on her breath. He wondered how long he had left until his time was up. Enough time to brush her teeth? Enough time to get her out of rain-soaked clothes? Enough time to decide whether she would let him do either of those things? That was probably the time-killer itself. “No weird things,” she had said. He'd have to honor it for now, but she must have been so uncomfortable. In the end, all he took off were her shoes, as they'd do her no good anyway. Her thin socks were soaked through with rain or sweat.

"It's burning up in here," she muttered suddenly, eyes closed.

"No, just you," Zelos assured. "Lemme get you a rag." He poured most of the remaining bottled water into the basin and grabbed an already-damp undershirt from the backpack to use on her forehead. "Here you go."

"Hahhhhh," Sheena sighed, "That's much better."

Zelos let his hand linger on her brow for a moment, pushing back a soaked lock of hair. Good thing she was so sick she wouldn't say no. Good thing she was well enough to talk by now. But her eyes fluttered half-open, and for a second Zelos thought she would bite his arm or something for not leaving her alone.

She didn't. Instead, she gave a weak smile and tilted her head into his hand. "Thanks," she said.

Zelos found himself smiling back at her in one of those infinite moments where he could almost—almost—be sure that if he came closer, she wouldn't retaliate. But now wasn't the time. "No _problema_. Besides, the rain's still coming down pretty heavy outside. You're set! You'll have so much water you could drown in it, and it still..." He stared out the window at the slanting rain, waiting for that crash of thunder, waiting for it to get worse. "... wouldn't give up."

"... it's pitiful... isn't it?" Sheena muttered, head now turned away from him.

"Hm?" The rain?"

"That I couldn't even... take out four guys," she wheezed. "And then, passing out like that..."

Zelos traced his thumb across her cheek and brought his hand down to hold hers. He wasn't about to tell her.

"Yeah, kinda shitty for a ninja not to recognize she was poisoned in the first fifteen seconds of the bout, huh?"

"But I was..."

"Don't worry about it. Just sayin', it's lucky that I found this place and had enough Panacea, eh? But now you can sleep it off for a couple hours, and we'll be back on our way." Zelos looked down at his boots, the splatter of vomit that lingered there.

"Zelos?"

He looked back up at her. "Yes?"

"Aren't _you_... hurt?"

"Heh. Don't be foolish," he dismissed. "You think someone in such a perfect condition as me would allow myself to be wounded by those jackasses?" He thought of his boots and hooked his feet under the bed frame. "Ta da! I cleaned up while you were out."

When she got a far-off look, he continued, "Don't worry about me. You worry about other people too much, you know that? You should try to rest."

"I'm sorry. But... to face eight men on your own," Sheena yelped, "It had to have been difficult—" and launched into a small fit of coughing. Inflamed airways would take a bit to widen, still. She couldn't have known that not enough time had passed for him to have...

"Just sleep."

"M'kay..."

"Your prince is here to watch over you," Zelos chuckled. Rather a prince than a Chosen. Rather a lie than to worry her.

"I... leave it to you."

She looked to be drifting off, chest rising evenly. But her hand still clutched his, and she squeezed it briefly. "Hey..." she whispered.

"Mhm?" Zelos responded.

"Doesn't this make you remember..."

Not really, Zelos thought. He didn't really want to think about anything but knocking out some terrorists. "What's that?"

"That one time... when it was raining, too. And we were with Lloyd and the others. I... I don't remember which city it was, but I got caught in the rain and got the flu."

Zelos's face twisted up. “Well, gee, now that you mention it…” He was glad that her eyes were closed.

“And you,” she began, taking a pause to wet her chapped lips, “You left me behind to paint the town red.”

“Aww, man. Guess I’m not livin’ that one down any time soon.”

“You’re just that... kinda guy.”

“Yep, I’m just that kinda guy. Didn’t you realize?” He sighed and looked through the window. But he didn't take his hand away.

“Lloyd… it was Lloyd who kept watch over me... Then he left to beat some sense into you…” Sheena trailed off, half-laughing at the absurd memory.

“Ah… yeah,” Zelos replied, still looking out of the window. He couldn’t have argued it. He had been absent on the night she was sick in Flanoir. But Pronyma was not a patient woman, and it was she that he was seeing, not any number of imaginary floozies. Though of course, Zelos had the tendency to sneak around before that effort and since, and even now as he stared at the water hitting on the glass, there were people waiting outside that she didn’t know about.

Sheena’s voice sharply roused him from his thoughts. “Everyone was angry… but I… I understood…”

There was no way she could have guessed where he’d been back then, yet she seemed vehement to make some sort of point. What was this, forgiveness for his betrayal? Hadn’t she gotten over that after she’d beat him to a pulp upon his return? She was too honest for her own good, rambling in the haze of the poison. He had to stop himself from thinking about it.

Instead, he reached out and put the back of his hand to her forehead. Warm, but not boiling. She wasn’t perspiring yet, but she’d be fine for the next half-hour or so if he needed the time. His hand brushed the side of her cheek again before retreating. “Sleep,” he told her, “Just go to sleep, sweetheart.”

“Nnnhnn, ’night Zelos,” Sheena muttered, and let her eyes close.

Zelos waited a few minutes, continuing to stare at the rain. “Even now, it's not letting up,” he muttered idly, then looked to Sheena. She didn’t respond.

Well, time to go.

Outside, the group of eight had arrived and formed a small horseshoe around the cabin. Taken aback, Zelos flashed his famous defusing smile. "Ah, sorry 'bout that. I've made you wait, haven't I?" he said, wedging the door shut behind him.

He noticed that the poisoner was wearing Bandanna's bandanna around his neck in the spot where Zelos's sword had been. Maybe his son. Either way, Bandanna stuck out like a sore thumb, his half-broken handle poking out of his fist.

“Have you finished your business?” Bandanna asked.

Zelos raised his eyebrows, then took a few labored steps forward. “Well, sort of,” he appeased.

If he could lead them away from the cabin, it would be better. If he could get on the other side of them, it'd be best.

“We hope you keep that promise, seeing as how we gave you plenty of time to look after the girl in our little exchange,” a man on his right said.

“Shut your trap, I got it, I got it,” Zelos stalled. He took a moment to undo his belt, then let the sheath, sword, and belt itself fall to the ground. “Fair is fair. You satisfied?”

Again, the group was silent yet abuzz with primal energy.

“Just remember—you'd better keep your end of the deal. Whatever happens after this,” Zelos began, then took a breath, “don't even think about laying a finger on the woman inside.”

Bandanna looked to his second, the apparent widower with the hat, who nodded.

“You can die without worrying,” Bandanna assured with that crooked bite.

“Ah, say what you like, but even without a sword, I'm pretty great at this whole sparring thing.”

“Whatever you say. Now, die!” Bandanna lifted his weapon and began to attack.

Zelos counted. Only one sword among all of them. Bandanna had that hoe-scythe thing; the kid had small knives; the one with the ax from before, and then a couple more with axes; widower with a shovel; hammer; and then that sword.

Their mistake was letting the man with the sword be on the end of the horseshoe. It was a pocket to keep him and his weapon safe for Zelos's plucking later on. But first, he slid through the mud to the other side of the formation and prepared to give them a light show.

* * *

The healing circle was barely any good. Well, sure, it stopped the bleeding, but the wounds were still fresh and the old blood would dry right into the clothes. A good night’s sleep and a shower would be the obvious solution. But the shack was small and unequipped aside from the small mattress and that damn dirty faucet. Zelos stripped out of the travel clothes outside, letting the rain take care of most of the dirtied wounds and fabric. Without soap, it’d only do so much, but he couldn’t risk anything. His other set of traveling clothes turned out to be dashed with mud and just as travel-worn. None of his clothes would survive another day, likely, and that’d mean they’d have to get to Luin as soon as possible to replace them. They’d have to get there anyway to pick up more potions.

And speaking of Panacea, Sheena was still sleeping inside, no better or worse than he'd left her.

Thankfully, even though the stock of wood near the shack was drenched, a couple of pieces were safe inside. All he had to do was make a fire and clothesline and pray Sheena was knocked out enough while he sat naked on the floorboards drying his hair. The night grew darker as the stove expended its fuel, but Zelos thought to light a small candle with the embers. He tied back his hair and grabbed his still-damp underwear from the makeshift clothesline before sitting on the edge of the bed, exhausted.

On the other end of the bed, Sheena turned and opened her eyes.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” Zelos asked softly. He scooted closer to her, but she only blinked blearily back at him. “You should try to get a little more rest. Sleep tight.”

He tried to hide his wounds in shadow before grabbing a handful of blanket and reclining on the far, far edge. Maybe if she was still half-asleep she wouldn’t notice his state of dishevelment or be bothered by the fact that he was lying down in the same bed as her.

“That’s not from before.”

When he glanced back, Sheena was pointing her finger at him.

What, the hair? The lack of shirt? He rubbed his eye with his hand. “Uh huh,” he dismissed.

“That wound,” Sheena asserted. She reached out her hand and placed it suddenly on his chest, on the gash under his key crest that hadn’t quite started to close up. Zelos looked down, then back at Sheena’s hazy face.

“Uh huh,” he said, placing his hand over hers to try and pry it away. Wouldn’t be good for it…

Sheena’s fingers curled around Zelos’s hand. She stared at him with furrowed brow. “What… happened?”

“It was nothing.” He guided her hand down to the mattress and adjusted the blanket over her shoulders. “Sleep now.”

“But—”

“I’ll be angry if you don’t,” he droned. “Just close your eyes.”

“A-all right. Goodnight, Zelos.”

Finally. Zelos turned and blew out the candle, then tried to be comfortable with one of his legs dangling off the side of the mattress. It might not be an easy night, but better to be modest than wake up with a slap to the face. For Martel’s sake, the Exsphere wouldn’t heal him if he didn’t get decent rest. It was different than the Cruxis Crystal, needed more time.

“… Hey, Zelos?” Sheena whispered.

He felt a soft tug on a few strands of hair, but his eyes remained closed. “Mmm.” Wasn’t going to stop her unless she suddenly yanked it.

“No… it’s nothing.”

The rain pattered on overhead; it sounded a little bit like paradise. But he was drifting into sleep and couldn’t be bothered anymore.

“’Night.”

* * *

Zelos had been up for hours. Maybe it was the nerves that woke him up before Sheena roused from her faded fever. Wasn't like her not to wake up first. As he looked at her even now, he had to be sure she was still breathing. The sunlight coming in from the window threw shadows on her face that made her look older, much older. Doubtlessly, the poison had done a number on her system. What would she have done if he hadn't been there? Would she have succumbed to death there and then in the muddied road?

But then, he thought, she wouldn't have gotten into that situation in the first place. It could have been him lying there, decaying alone. He was lucky it wasn't, and he was lucky that he could spend this sequestered time with Sheena. Hopefully she'd appreciate it, too.

She was waking now, the shine cutting into the hazel of her eyes. Shimmered like the field-plains of Palmacosta.

"Good morning, princess," he hummed from his lean against the windowsill.

"Morning already?" Sheena stretched under the quilt.

"It was quick, wasn't it? Good thing you're pretty tough."

Sheena inspected herself and sat up on her elbows. "You didn't change me out of these clothes."

"You wouldn't have wanted me to," Zelos reasoned. His clothes were surely in better shape, but it was only a matter of time before Sheena would see the dried blood in lighter patches.

"Ugh, next time, I give you permission," she groaned.

"Whaaaat? Who are you and what have you done with Sheena?" Zelos gesticulated.

"It feels like I slept in a sack of potatoes!"

"Wouldn't you have beaten me to a pulp if you woke up naked?"

Sheena shot up. "Wh-who says I'd have to be naked?! Just the muddy parts!"

"Look at yourself. What's not muddy? It was raining, everything was soaked through."

She closed her mouth to swallow, but quickly stuck her tongue back out. "My mouth tastes like hundred-year-old pickles..."

"... Eh heh, that, too... you barfed on my shoe trying to expel the poison."

"I _what_?!" she shouted, embarrassed.

"It's cool, though. It was just the once. I'm telling you, don't worry about it. We'll get you all cleaned up pretty soon."

Sheena grumbled. "Fine, whatever. Where are we?" She brushed a hand through her tangled bangs and left her hand on her forehead.

“Not sure.”

She glared.

“Okay, we're about half a mile from where we encountered that gang of creeps,” Zelos said. “One of them tipped me off about this place.”

“How did you do that? You didn't let any of them live, did you?” Sheena pressed. She kicked her legs over the side of the bed. The movement hid the flush rising to her cheeks. Half a mile was a distance she knew she couldn't have walked alone.

Zelos combed a hand through his hair. “Eh... I thought about it. That one in particular seemed like he wasn't so bad,” he sighed.

Out back around the edge of the cabin, a couple of shallow graves would have said otherwise. The widower, the one who told about the cabin; he was the one with a shovel as a weapon in the first place. Almost felt bad. Almost felt like this could have been his late wife's cabin out here by itself.

“They're all bad. They're trying to kill you.” Sheena caught his gaze.

“Yeah... They are,” he admitted, “but they're doing an awful job.”

Sheena nodded. “I guess we lie low for a little bit longer.”

“Can't be helped.”

“... You're not gonna say anything about...?”

Zelos simply raised interested eyebrows.

“You know...” Sheena tilted her head forward. “' _The Great Zelos Wilder Can't Be Defeated Because He's Just Too Pretty, Seriously_ ,' by Friedrich Callon?”

“Ah hah hah!” Zelos threw back his head. “That's all right, but it doesn't have the right ring to it, y'know? Obviously, the Great Chosen One defeated the terrorists with my devilish good looks.”

Sheena rolled her eyes as sweepingly as she could. “Oh, brother.”

“And saved the heroine, who had been poisoned!”

“Not this guy again,” Sheena groaned. “' _Uphill both ways in the pouring rain!'_ Give me my toothbrush, will you?”

Zelos looped a strap of the soggy backpack onto his arm and brought the whole thing over to the bed. “If you're feeling well enough, we ought to head out soon.”

Sheena dug in the backpack for her cheap toothbrush, which she'd wrapped in a handkerchief. Slowly, she made her way to the small kitchen's sink. Not even bothering to check the faucet, she used rainwater that had been collected in a familiar-looking bowl, set thoughtfully beside the basin by Zelos, no doubt. Just getting the slime off her teeth hardly did a thing compared to the dirt woven into her clothes.

She sighed, then looked over her shoulder, where Zelos was sitting idly at the foot of the bed. It was only then that she noticed a few choice stains on his clothing. So, what she had seen when she was sleeping wasn't her imagination. The stains were much too sanguine to be mud. What a liar, that one. What a fool.

Rather than bother him about it, Sheena decided to replace her toothbrush quietly. After all, if he wanted her to know, he'd have complained about it by now. A stupid, grateful grin found its way onto her face.

 

* * *

At the bridge to Luin, Zelos stopped short. He could see almost as far as the center lake, where a looming marble fountain reminded him of last year's rebuilding.

“Wait,” he instructed. “They know you here, right?”

Sheena paced forward a few steps. “Yeah, but I doubt anyone will make a big deal of it.”

Not long after the exchange, the two had wandered over to the City of Rebirth Boutique, which was both adjacent to and behind the town's inn. Strange little addition considering the donations the Regeneration group had put forth for rebuilding. Nevertheless, they were glad for the opportunity to change.

"Welome, welcome! We're so glad you stopped by," an overly eager clerk shouted her greeting. One might actually assume she was glad for someone to have stopped by.

"Good morning," Sheena said with a polite bow. Mostly, she hoped to hide the stench of her malodorous mouth. Zelos said nothing but stood tall behind her, waiting. And mostly, he was waiting for the clerk to recognize who Sheena was, since with his hair up and the Exsphere covered, he could pass for invisible. Small payoff, but he had to amuse himself somehow.

"And what brings you here today?" the clerk—Mindy-heart-smile on the nametag—continued, briskly meeting with them at the front of the floor.

Zelos took a look around the racks. Drab. Flat. Entirely common. They'd be perfect.

"Well, you see," Sheena said, bringing her head up and raising her eyebrows, "I'm going to need something that will help us blend in."

Mindy-garble took a second glance. And finally, "Oh my sweet goddess Martel, are you who I think you are? _The_ Sheena Fujibayashi?"

Zelos smirked underneath a raised palm.

"Guilty," Sheena sighed through a smile. She thought about moving her heel just a liiiittle bit to stomp on Zelos's hopes of laughing from the scene. Not that his enjoyment from the scene was of her concern at all.

"I can't believe I'm meetin' you in the flesh! Just think, Sheena Fujibayashi!"

Sheena flushed a little from the attention. Thankfully, the boutique was empty aside from the three of them. "Ah... yep! It's just me."

Drawling Mindy bowed awkwardly and reached out for Sheena's hands. "Don't you know? You saved my little Eric, my little son. You turned damn near all a' our lives around out here! Oh, I just gotta do something... Can I get your picture?"

Before Sheena could open her mouth in protest, Zelos spoke. In a horribly stereotypical impression of a Mizuhoan accent. "Not possiblru. Za Chief of Mizuho is on secret mission." He motioned out in front of her with his arm, breaking the bond between the womens' hands.

Sheena's eyes widened tenfold. "Uhh... humm... My BODYGUARD here is right, I absolutely couldn't. Like I said, I need to be BLENDING IN right now. Soooo sorry about that," she said. She shot Zelos a swift look of fury. Like his red hair could ever possibly mean he was from Mizuho! If he didn't want to stand out, he shouldn't be pulling this nonsense.

"No, no, that's all right. _I'm_ sorry to be oversteppin' bounds," Mindy said, holding back obvious emotion. "You do look right in need of a clean something-or-other. Can I... Can I help you take a look around?"

Zelos coughed solemnly. Or, as solemnly as his offensive joke would allow him to appear. Luckily, this clerk wasn't at all caught up on the newspaper from Tethe'alla. Otherwise, she'd have been able to guess. Oh, these rural folk.

"Oh, yes, and my bodyguard could use a change of clothes as well. You must have seen the storm that blew through here," Sheena explained.

"I sure seen it with my own eyes. Y'all coming from Tethe'alla?" Mindy said.

"Yep..."

Mindy loquaciously guided the pair of them down a few rows, shoving a few handfuls of hangers at them at a time. "With your figure? Absolutely," and "He's awfully quiet, isn't he? Shoulders on him, maybe we need this a size up," and "Let's just see if this would work out. But it probably will!"

Sheena, through gritted teeth, had to rush the process. "I'll just purchase a few things. No need for me to muddy them up."

Mindy paused for a moment. "Well, dear, there's almost no way I'd make you pay for some clothes on your back. Shoot, there's a statue of you 'round the back way, here! Take what you need for your mission, I'll keep my trap shut about this." She smiled somewhere in between genuine and confused.

Zelos caught Sheena's eyes. "Rush is no good for you! You should try on!" he insisted, waving his hands. After all, this was his vacation. Might as well get to see a pretty girl in a few nice outfits before it was back to sleeping in the open.

"Oh, knock it off, you stupid Ch—! Tr—ainee, you!" Sheena stumbled.

Mindy was torn. "It's up to you, Miss Fujibayashi!"

Sheena rolled her eyes at Zelos before selecting a few hangers from the bunch. "Here, I'll just take a nice functional one—," pants and a simple top, "and something functional for him—," more rugged-looking pants and a shirt with 3/4-length sleeves, "and... this just in case," which was a modest striped dress. Zelos nodded in approval, particularly of the dress. It wasn't often that he saw Sheena in anything other than traditional robes. "How much will that be?"

The bubbly clerk motioned them to the counter at the back. "I said, darlin', nothin' at all." When Sheena handed her the selections, Mindy folded the items neatly and packaged them in a square gift bag.

"That's honestly too kind of you. What if I gave you something so that you could buy a toy for your son?" Sheena asked. She reached for the single pocket on the pants she was wearing, but realized she had less in there than she remembered. But a cheap ring wasn't compensation, and she wasn't about to give it away. She turned to Zelos, the ever-foreboding play-bodyguard. "I don't know where my money's gone. All I have in here is lint."

Zelos leaned in to her ear—no funny business with the blowing—and whispered, "I'll give her a tip if you wear that dress out of here."

Sheena began to fume silently. "Don't put me in that position." She glared with more intense desperation.

"Fine," Zelos conceded. He reached for a few bills from the pack.

Brightening redder, Sheena all but threw the money at Mindy-heart-smile. "So sorry for all the trouble, ma'am, and thanks for your help. I'll send an official thank-you from Mizuho upon my return."

* * *

When Sheena emerged looking less than comfortable in her new dress, she was sure the day would be a disaster. But other than that exchange, Zelos wasn't demanding, insufferable, or even crude. He went quietly with Sheena as she visited various locations within Luin, like the fountain with Lloyd's giant tribute statue.

“Not at my statue. That's just embarrassing,” Sheena had begged.

It was entertaining to watch her interact with the townspeople there. Lots of families approached her, grateful for her stopping the Human Ranch's operation. One child even bashfully brought her flowers.

Zelos just sat on the fountain's stoop and watched. And grinned, maybe. She had a way with the kids, didn't she? After the one with the flowers, a couple older kids came up and asked if she was really “Miss Sheena the Ninja.” She could've had them eating out of the palm of her hand; she could have had him fooled any other day of the week. In none of his dreams had he imagined that she'd be the type of woman to take well to children. It wasn't as though Mizuho had a strong market for babysitting, as their lull in population growth was becoming more apparent since the Regeneration.

He didn't really think about children much, himself. Since an adolescent age, he was concerned with adults fairly exclusively. Seles was the closest thing he had; or maybe whatever servant runts the nobles had running around. But they weren't really children, either. Nor was Genis, who was just a brat. What did it mean to be a kid, anyway? For that matter, what did it mean to have a family like these ones he saw in this square?

He shook it from his mind and just enjoyed how Sheena's expressions seemed to expand when the little ones questioned her. In another life, she'd probably have been one of those girls who married young and had tons of babies for the sake of it. She was a natural.

Midday shifted to afternoon, and when Sheena was exhausted from the attention, she and Zelos nabbed lunch and headed for the hills outside of town. By the time evening caught up with them, they'd reached a lake that was familiar to Sheena.

“This place is Lake Umacy,” she explained. “We went here on part of the journey before we got the Rheiards.”

“Lotta hiking, huh?” Zelos asked.

“Lotta hiking. Lots of, uh... memories here.” Sheena pretended to be distracted by the nearby tree, but what floated in her mind was the unicorn. That poor thing had sacrificed itself for the good of Martel. But Zelos didn't have to be the wiser.

Instead, he kept his distance. This could be just the place another gang of terrorists would hide. The untamed brush at the far edge, perhaps. They'd all but wasted the day traipsing around her playground, and though he was happy for her wellness, it would be forfeit if someone else attacked. Maybe it was best if they didn't camp out in the open.

“Oh! Look at the lake,” Sheena noticed suddenly. The water obliged, sparkling with evening sun rays. “It's beautiful... isn't it?”

Zelos turned his head. Well, even the Sylvaranti sunset had a way of polishing a puddle. The blue of the sky blended into purple, then into an orange-pink. The sun was setting on the nearest House of Martel.

“If we don't find an inn, we'll have to sleep in the open,” Zelos replied plainly. Not to dash her dreams, but this wasn't the time. Think of the shovel. Think of the vomit-on-boots. Think of her weary face and the gash on his chest.

They reached the House of Martel by nightfall safely, no thanks to Zelos's rushed pace. Dinner was a quiet affair, although Zelos could tell Sheena wanted to say something. Instead of having that conversation, he quietly paid for two rooms.

“Hey,” he called to her before she retired. “That sunset from earlier... it wasn't bad.”

But before he could elicit a smile from her, she had turned away and closed the door.


	4. Shatter and Shimmer

**4\. SHATTER AND SHIMMER**

"MY turn!" Sheena squealed, bouncing in circles around the hapless red-headed Chosen.

“Oh, come on,” he muttered back.

“My turn, my turn!”

“Hey, but wasn't it your—you cheated!”

“Myyyy turn!”

“But when you draw three times in a row, the rules of Rock-Paper—“

“It's MY turn!” Sheena sang, squaring off against him.

Zelos could only sigh deeply. Last night he'd endured dinner duty, dish duty, _and_ laundry duty all because he mentioned the slight-possible-thought of going to the hot springs. So Sheena flipped out like she usually did, like he'd trick her into it, or something. Just because the last time they were there he tried to sneak a peek didn't mean he'd do it this time, he'd argued. He could have seen or done whatever he wanted when she'd been knocked out last week from that poison.

But Sheena couldn't just point-blank decide where to go because she didn't like the hot springs. The only clear solution was to leave it to a game of Rock-Paper-Scissors. Damn, and he could have cheated his way into being rock-handed so easily…

“Stop being a sore loser,” Sheena chirped. She undid a tie in the knapsack on Zelos's back and dug out a worn map.

“Yes, ma'am.” Zelos didn't have to watch her finger scanning the page. Wherever it landed was certain to be super-outdoorsy, ceremonial, or completely boring. Or Flanoir. Oh, please, not Flanoir.

Sheena folded the map along its failing creases. “Don't be that way. I think you'll like where we're headed!” She gently thwacked the top of his head with the map before turning to face the road. “It'll be a change of scenery, though...”

He winced.

* * *

All right, it wasn't Flanoir. And with the sun shining on his face, Zelos was starting to feel like a human again. Sheena hadn't picked the worst place, but she did manage to find the one thing about Altamira that he didn't like: the amusement park.

Screaming kids to the left, tourists in gaudy t-shirts to the right, and in front of them, at least a dozen more rides that were sure to induce headaches. Having Cruxis-altered genetics doesn't compensate for rattling sinus cavities, after all. Even when Zelos was escorted here as a kid, he was more interested in the performers on the little stages than drops and dips of rollercoasters. Then again, Sheena probably hadn't been offered a pity trip to the amusement park when _her_ father died. Or for her, that whole Volt thing, Zelos recalled. Making up for lost time.

Bah, sidetracking his brain wasn't going to make up for the dizzy feeling he got while disembarking the coaster car.

Sheena ran ahead to the exit. By the time Zelos wobbled over, she had already pulled out the park map. “Wasn't that awesome?” she exclaimed, not even bothering to look over at him. “Last time we were here, I don't think there were as many rides! Looks like even the amusement parks are prospering. Oh! What's this...”

While she rambled, Zelos pulled his ponytail tighter and used the moment to survey the crowds. The tourists were probably innocuous—safety in numbers—but Sheena wasn't making any effort to be inconspicuous.

“ _The Amusement Park shuts down all rides and games at 10 p.m. to prepare for the electric light parade and fireworks..._ Blah, blah, blah, _Special event for couples..._ Damn! It's only during the summer. I can't believe we missed it! I wanted to see that,” Sheena whined. “Didn't you, Zelos? Huh?”

The least she could do is act like she was there with him instead of going on her favorite rides; eating all this cheap, greasy food; games where all you win are hastily-sewn plush toys. It was a ruse, all of it. Just another reason to get people to stay at the resort. Why couldn't they take part in the relaxing atmosphere if they were only going to be here for a day?

“... Earth to Chosen!” Sheena shouted in his ear.

“Don't you 'earth to Chosen' me!” He crossed his arms defiantly in case she wanted him to hold that stupid map.

“Aww, did you want to spend your day in Altamira in some posh lounge with champagne and pretty girls in bunny suits?” she asked, grinning, lording it over him.

“Well if I could just walk with the girl that's already _with_ me in a place that isn't full of nausea and brats...”

Sheena was about to shove him into the nearest light pole, but something caught her attention.

“Sheena?”

Both of them turned toward the source of the call. Someone in a suit was rushing his way nearer to them. “Ah! I knew it. It _is_ you!” he called.

“Well! If it isn't—Regal, what are you doing here?” Sheena replied, relieved. Thank goodness it wasn't someone she knew from Mizuho, or heaven forbid, someone sent to kill the Chosen. That was part of the reason an amusement park aimed at children would be safe.

“It certainly is a pleasure to see you,” Regal said. He bowed formally, and Sheena jumped to bow lower than he.

“Ah, no, no! The pleasure is ours!” she said. “Er—mine...”

Zelos tilted his sunglasses briefly and stood closer to the two of them. “Yo,” he greeted.

“Chosen One!”

“Y'know, I'm still surprised by how easily some people are fooled when I pull my hair back,” Zelos muttered.

“But hey, can you keep that on the D-L?”

“We're... uh... sort of undercover,” Sheena explained. Regal nodded, raising an eyebrow.

“Understood. Why don't we take this somewhere a little more private? There's a back room of the cafe near the front of the park.”

“Oh! The one with the Katz! I remember that from when we came in.”

“Sounds like a plan. Shall we reconvene in fifteen?”

Zelos rolled his eyes. “Nice rhyme. Yeah, we'll freshen up and meet you there.”

“Indeed.” Regal walked a short distance and emerged from a bush with a golf cart-like vehicle, speeding away through the crowd and looking like security.

“Hey, that's not fair!” Sheena shouted.

“Totally not fair,” Zelos echoed. But Regal had disappeared as hastily as he had found them.

Sheena sighed through gritted teeth. “Well, we'll have to start walking if we wanna get there in time.”

* * *

Zelos sank into the chair across from Regal. For as kitschy as the cat-person–themed cafe seemed out front, the back room was fairly well-furnished. Mahogany lacquer covered actual wooden chairs; fine tablecloths rested on sturdy tables. Regal probably took a lot of his business here, eh?

“It has been too long,” Regal announced, pouring the travelers each a glass of wine. Zelos couldn't have been happier to see wine, at this point. Hopefully being tipsy meant that there would be no more gallivanting around the park.

Sheena took a polite sip. “You look well, Regal!” She lifted her glass for a small toast, and the host obliged. One had to admit, when Regal ditched the handcuffs and the ratty prison garb, he cleaned up nicely. But he maintained that tall, restrained posture regardless. At the moment, he was particularly restrained.

“So, I've heard the rumors about the conflict in Meltokio,” Regal said. Sheena's face lost some color. “It seems that the random terrorist attacks were put to an end." 

“Uhh—yeah! Those! Right! Right, yeah, those were, ah... Those were certainly put to an end right away!” Sheena stammered. She took a strong gulp of her drink, and Zelos did the same.

Regal stared down Zelos. “I suppose we'll have to keep it a secret that you're the one being targeted.”

“I guess so,” Zelos remarked. Was it that obvious? He had taken precaution with his disguises. Hell, it wasn't like he was the one trying to bring danger to Altamira. It was all Sheena's fault! She was the one who decided...

Then again, it was easy to blame, but when it came down to it, being the Chosen in a united world was little different from being the Chosen in a prospering world. He still couldn't change the fact that he was a figurehead for every wrong the Church had ever done. He was still the target of hatred despite having done largely nothing—or perhaps because of doing largely nothing. He still would have preferred if Seles were the Chosen. No matter what happened from here on out, whether or not Sheena chose where they ran, he was the one making it unsafe.

Zelos's throat tightened and he burned to think of the mess he'd create wherever this crazy journey ended.

“... Will it be it a problem?”

“No, no, not at all!” Sheena interjected directly at the president. “And by the way, that suit fits you, really, quite well!”

Regal shook his head. “Not at all, it's quite old.”

“Don't be modest. You're the president of the Lezareno company! You _should_ look like a high-rank noble. I feel like the two of us are out of place,” Sheena gestured between herself and Zelos, “what with our travel-worn clothes in a place like this...”

“It _is_ pretty awful, Regal,” Zelos interrupted, raising his glass but not drinking from it.

“What are you talking about?” Sheena asked frantically, throwing a furtive glance.

“The sleeves and shoulder lines aren't crashing the right way. All the softness has gone out of the neckline, and your tie,” Zelos emphasized, “it doesn't swell.”

“But—”

“Not terribly fitting for a man of your rank, and don't think I didn't notice!”

Sheena punched Zelos's arm flatly. “Don't be so rude!”

Regal simply laughed. “Well, I could never pull the wool over your eyes, Chosen One.”

“What?” Sheena was genuinely confused—why wouldn't Regal be offended?

“Unlike Little Miss Culture Shock, I had a good upbringing!” Zelos grinned. But instead of receiving another hit to his arm (or chest, or face), he was met with Sheena's knotted expression.

“What's the joke that I'm missing, here?”

Regal sipped from his own glass. “Lately, the Lezareno Company has seen some... troubling times.”

“Troubling...?” Sheena prompted.

“We're being forced to economize, cut down expenses and the like. As president, it is my duty to demonstrate the best of those efforts; recycle old suits like this...” Regal noticed Sheena still staring at him. “What? Compared to the prison clothes I used to wear, this is top-notch!”

“Ah ha,” Sheena snorted idly.

“If the great Lezareno Company is downsizing, what exactly... what's going on with you guys?” Zelos steered.

“I thought you'd noticed,” Regal countered. In the ensuing pause, the space was filled with the sounds of crowds walking past the cafe and toward the exit. “The park isn't doing spectacularly well, lately.”

“It didn't seem much like it.”

“Wait, think about it. We didn't really wait in line very long to ride the rollercoasters, did we; even if there were more of them?” Sheena asked Zelos. Perhaps that explained the constant nausea.

“There's a sense of unease all around. I wonder if people aren't thinking that it's not safe to be in crowds, no? I'm fairly certain it has to do with the terrorist bombing attempt. Not much to do on my part. I can't change the general consensus. But the visitors are decreasing, and we can't increase security. Right now, the amusement park is Lezareno's biggest burden.”

Zelos tapped his fingertips on the table. “Couldn't you just... build a new ride or make the old ones better?”

“It has come up in shareholder meetings, however, there are many who would oppose. Even worse, there are many who believe the best outcome would be closing the park. But I can't afford to think like that,” Regal continued. “We only have so many public properties, and I believe that the amusement park should serve as a... a sort of symbol of... ah...”

“For peace? For prosperity?” Sheena floundered.

“That's it! Peace and prosperity,” Regal confirmed.

Zelos sipped the last of the wine and placed his glass on the table. How could a theme park represent something like that? Come to think of it, there wasn't much of a theme. The biggest news in the past year had been the uniting of the worlds. Something had to be gained from that.

“I suppose I'll save business proposals for the board room. Say, do the two of you need a place to stay this evening?” Regal offered.

Sheena almost jumped out of her seat. “Oh, we wouldn't want to put you out!”

Zelos grinned at her. “I thought you were happy with staying at an inn outside of town, Hoi Polloi.”

“It's no trouble,” Regal said quickly. “Although with the downsizing...”

“... Uh huh?”

“I hope you wouldn't mind, but I'm afraid you'd have to make do with a king-sized bed. We can't spare two rooms on the house.”

“No worry at all!” Sheena said.

“You don't mind sharing with the Chosen One?” Regal clarified.

She found both Regal and Zelos were gazing at her intently. “Um, no, it'll be fine,” she said, blank. “What?”

Regal lifted a hand to his chin. “So... could it be that the reason the two of you are traveling together...?”

Zelos swung his arm around Sheena's shoulders. “Tell him, huuuunny!”

Sheena struggled and pushed him away. “Oh, you—! It isn't like that, Regal!”

Zelos gave a rollicking, high-pitched laugh. “It's just too easy, oh man—!”

“I see. Well, I apologize for my imposition,” Regal said stoically. “I suppose it's none of my business.”

Zelos's hand lingered upon Sheena's back, pressing gently toward her breathing lungs. She wasn't pushing away. She wasn't protesting wildly. That thing, earlier, about the light parade for couples. And the fact that it could even occur to Regal; well, perhaps it did seem like a honeymoon thing to do for a couple of kids who went through hell for a tree. But Regal never would have said anything if he weren’t at least a little suspicious.

Maybe he should let her win Rock-Paper-Scissors more often.

* * *

“'Make do.' And here I was thinking we were gonna get some shabby room!” Zelos exclaimed. Their room with “just” a King-sized bed was actually the size of a suite. Large windows on two sides, desk set with amenities, gigantic bathtub. Just like on the Regeneration tour. Zelos flung the overstuffed travel rucksack to the side of the door and ran to the bed. With great gusto, he flopped onto the comforter face-down. “It's been ages since I've slept on a real, cushy bed! Gotta love civilization.”

“Let's not forget that if it weren't for my decision, you wouldn't be enjoying civilization right now,” Sheena called, closing the door and kicking off her shoes. She walked over to the bed with hands on her hips. “Your attention, please!”

“Hm?”

“This pattern right here, see? The black line? If I find even _one_ finger over it, I'll kill you. Got it?” she demanded.

Zelos gave a sore look. “Aw, come on, it's not like I'm some stranger!”

“Pff. You're stranger than most.”

He rolled onto his back and mimed. “' _It'd be so nice to share a room with the Great Zelos_!' You said it yourself!”

“I said it was _fine_ , not _nice_!” she squawked. A blush flourished on her cheeks but there was no use hiding it. “Don't you get the wrong idea. Regal's letting us stay here for free and we can't be rude!”

“But look, Sheena,” Zelos began in his smoothest voice. He rolled off the bed and landed next to one of the windows. “Isn't the night sky so... _romantic_?”

“M-my, my, where has the daylight gone!” she shouted, rushing over to the rucksack.

“Oh, calm down. It's not like I have any time to mess around tonight, anyway,” Zelos muttered. He went over to the desk and pulled one of the drawers open. Perfect—the books he'd asked Regal for when they were leaving. And the full ream of paper, and several pens.

“Uh... what?” Sheena turned around with toothbrush in hand and confusion on her brow.

“Look over here for a second. I've got some books, I've got some paper, I've got some pens. What do you think I'm about to do?”

“... trace the pictures and send them home to your Butler so he can hang them on the refrigerator?” she deadpanned. Zelos scowled. “Or you’re writing a novel, I dunno.”

“Bingo!” He cracked open the book on the top of the stack.

“Well, I, for one,” Sheena announced, “am going to sleep, so don't you get any weird ideas. And that light had better be off in a half hour!”

Zelos hunched over his books studiously, not saying a word.

After attending to teeth-brushing, Sheena climbed into bed next to the far wall so that the light wouldn't bother her. But though a glow did seep through her closed eyelids, Sheena managed to drift off fairly quickly and soundly.

"What time should I wake you?" Zelos said quietly when he suspected she was about to fall asleep. The girl groaned at him vaguely, stirring. He repeated, "Sheena? You need to wake up any certain time?"

Sheena turned her face to the ceiling and squinted her eyes open. "Forget it. I wake up earlier than you most days, anyway," she mumbled. She closed her eyes again and rolled to the side farther from Zelos.

"Not true. I won't even tell you what I've already gotten away with while you were sleeping!" With no response to his joke, Zelos looked over his shoulder. She'd heard it before. "You must need that beauty rest."

"Zelos, not in the mood."

He waved his hand at her. "Eh, you're no fun. Sleep already."

Nothing.

Well, Altamira needed a hero, and for as much as he wasn't allowed to show his face, Zelos wanted to be that hero. On paper. Under a pseudonym. He picked up the pen and continued to scratch away. With a pair of glasses, he imagined he would look somewhat like Yuan—always crafting something secret.

Through the wee hours, Zelos took brief breaks from birthing the script to page through some of the company history Regal had loaned him. Lots of business jargon. That wasn't something for which he was particularly gifted. He could charm the pants off almost anyone but if he had to read about management terminology it would dumbfound him. It reminded him of the angelic scripts they'd use in Church of Martel ceremonies. Most people didn't even know what it meant by the time Martel got her new form, and in a way that was a good thing. Maybe just skip over the Cruxis stuff. Give him a complicated mathematics figure, even, and he could untangle its meaning. This business boost was kind of a shot in the dark.

When he completed the first rough-as-hell draft, it was about three a.m. Time to call it quits if he was going to pitch successfully. His brain fried from the continual focus. He sighed and rose from the desk chair.

Goddammit.

He'd promised Sheena he wouldn't violate her space, but by now she was sprawled across most of the length of the bed. And while the bed was a King, he wasn't a triangle, nor was he about to take the floor.

Yeah, it would come down to making her move over. This was the second time she'd taken up the only bed in a given space without other options—but at least she didn't wrap herself up in the blanket like a burrito fortress.

"Sheena?" he whispered. He turned out the light and she did not so much as stir. With a shrug, he stripped to undergarments and threw the rest on the chair behind him.

Gently, he peeled back the duvet and tried to settle in beside her. As far as he could tell, her limbs were spread in an impossible configuration. She seemed harmless enough, but he planned to move defensively in case she woke and wanted to punch him in the jaw.

He began with her right arm. First, he barely touched her skin with his finger to test for a reaction. Surprisingly, not a thing. He was sure her body was set at least to stun on autopilot. Cupping her upper arm, he pushed her leftward and inched into the new space. Still not quite enough. Maybe Presea could have fit in the gap her arm left, but not a full-grown man.

He reached farther down to her knee and gently placed it to the side.

Finally, Sheena moved.

It was a little bit of a snap, as though suddenly her instincts were kicking in. Zelos removed his hand. Her knee moved back to where it was before, dead weight. Begrudgingly, he shoveled her leg into his hand again and tried to move it. This time when Sheena moved, she rolled across to her other side. _Well, thanks_.

Zelos stretched his legs out and settled into the pillows, although they puffed up just a little too high for his taste. He'd have to tell Regal for the next time they waltzed into town. But for now, he let his breathing slip into rhythm with Sheena's before falling asleep.

* * *

In the morning, Sheena awoke to perfect silence. No yapping Chosen, no running water; no birds, even. She stretched cautiously, then threw off the covers. Nope, nothing weird so far. In fact, the only difference was that along with Zelos, the pile of books had disappeared. The ream of paper had been replaced with a single sheet.

“Oh, good, someone's finally taken him for ransom,” she thought aloud, prepared to accept her status as worst bodyguard in the history of the new world.

Wasn't that technically what she was doing—accompanying him to make sure he didn't make any poor wagers with the terrorists? So far, she succeeded just about as well as she had in assassinating Colette. Getting poisoned and not even taking out one of them; falling asleep so soundly that she hadn't noticed when Zelos had woken up earlier. She could only hope there was some reason for her being there, some skill only she possessed that would be able to prove she was... well, using her time wisely.

She wandered to the desk, where the sheet of paper had a couple of lines scrawled across it.

“Meeting El Presidente to discuss the day's plan. I think it'll go swimmingly. Call down to the lobby when you wake up. XO The Great You-Know-Who,” Sheena scoffed. Zelos had some of the girliest handwriting she'd ever seen, but then, she wasn't used to writing in cursive the way they did in Meltokio.

Nevertheless, she combed her hair up into its unruly ponytail and rung the lobby.

“We're sending your package immediately,” the bubbly receptionist replied.

“A package?” Sheena said. “You're sure you have the right room?”

“Name here says V. D. Banshee...”

Sheena sighed heavily. “Yeah, that's gotta be for me.” As though Regal would have called her that—!

“Well, it'll be there post-haste! Thank you,” the receptionist said. The tone clicked before Sheena could ask any further questions, and before long, the door sounded with a few short raps.

Gingerly, Sheena answered it. “Hello?”

An attendant held out a brown cardboard box for her. “For you, Ms. Banshee.”

Sheena looked at the man sideways. “Who is this from?”

“Lezareno Company, compliments of Mr. Bryant,” the attendant replied, thrusting the box at her.

“Th-thanks,” Sheena said, accepting the box and retreating into the room.

Upon ripping off the tape, she spied a large foam head, black leotard, pair of tights, and a pair of too-sparkly shoes. On top of the pile, there was an envelope stamped with the wax seal of the Lezareno Company.

“This isn’t actually from Regal, right?” she asked herself aloud.

Ripping the envelope open revealed a letter that was, in fact, from the desk of Regal Bryant.

“ _Hello_ ,

“ _Someone told me I could reach you if I addressed you like that. I apologize if it is beyond my bounds._

_“That someone and I have conspired to create a children’s show advertising the theme park. I’m afraid we’ll need help your help advertising for it. Is that all right?_

_“I’ve prepared a costume for you here. Someone said you wouldn’t like to be a true bunny girl, so I’ve modified it a little to conceal your identity. He also gave your measurements to my seamstress, but you have my word that they will not be shared._

_“You’ll find your companion waiting out front by the time you get this package. I think his performance in particular shall be_ ribbit- _ing!_

_“Thank you for understanding. —President Bryant.”_

“My god,” Sheena said. “Is Lezareno this desperate?”

She gave a strained look toward the costume, then looked at the letter that had been written so formally. Back to the costume. Back to the letter.

She sighed. It was for the kids, right? The letter flew onto the bed, and she grabbed the contents of the box.

A quick change later, she found herself staring in the mirror at a mascot-headed bunny girl. Regal was right about the leotard. Instead of the usual neckline, the top connected to a band around her neck. It was modest, but still showed her bony shoulders. For not having much notice, it didn’t fit too badly. Just where had Zelos obtained those measurements, anyway? She jotted a mental note to ask whether last year’s ballroom attire had anything to do with it.

Picking at the bodice, Sheena modeled in the mirror. Hopefully it would be camouflage enough.

Sheena took a quick trip down the elevator, wobbling somewhat with the weight of the rabbit’s-head mask. Finally, she spied her “companion” across the street, wearing a similarly ridiculous mascot costume. Some kind of frog? Ah. _Ribbit_ -ing. Regal was quite the punster after all.

Zelos crossed his arms. “Well, well, I never thought I'd actually see you in this outfit,” he said, muffled through the foam head.

“It's for _kids_ , you jerk,” Sheena huffed. “And for Regal, and the good of Lezareno. We really owe them for what they’ve done for our country.”

“Maybe we should have made you a mother hen! At least your proportions would make sense,” Zelos mocked, laughing.

Sheena's eyes rolled emphatically behind her mask. “You'd better not be so crude when we get inside the park! If Miss Bunny murders Mister Frog, I think we might upset some parents.”

Zelos-with-the-head-of-a-frog looked quizzically at her. “So you're not going to punish me for that?”

Sheena's hands flew to her hips. “Don't make me beat you up. The _children_ ,” she emphasized.

“I'm just sayin', it's not every day I can get away with appreciating your body without injury.”

The rabbit headpiece somewhat hid Sheena's reddening face, but she crossed her arms and turned away from Zelos. “It's not a compliment when you say it like that. It's just—ugh!” she blurted.

“Hey, come on, I'm just fooling around. I won't slip up around the kids. Besides,” he said, “despite my relationship with Seles, I'm actually not bad with kids!”

Sheena looked up at him. “Seles, huh? I wouldn't have thought.”

“Gee, thanks.” He shuffled a booted foot. “We should get on the ferry if we're going to get there in time, though.”

* * *

“Come one, come all! Free tickets, today only!” Sheena shouted through her rabbit helmet. Small families walking by, errant children, flippant teenagers—she advertised to everyone and anyone who passed through the gates of the park. She stood on one side of the entrance, while frog-Zelos manned the other. “Free show for children on the main stage! All you need is your passport to fun!”

Just then, a girl in a hot pink skirt and cowboy boots ran up to Sheena at full speed. “BUNNY LADY!” she squealed, and patted at Sheena’s leg. “Bunny Lady, can I have a ticket?”

“Here’s one for you,” she replied, shuffling out a couple. “Give one to your mommy, too!”

The little girl ran off without so much as a thank-you, but the look on her mother’s face was grateful enough. At last, the tickets were finally beginning to fly out of her hands. Something about the bunny getup, maybe, made her approachable? But looking over toward Zelos’s selling antics, it was easy to see that she was more popular.

She liked kids, anyway. Always had. Or at least, they seemed to like her. They didn’t hold grudges as much as adults. Their assumptions were crystal-clear. Maybe they looked up to her, although she couldn’t imagine why.

Ah, but she had a job to do. She puffed herself up a bit. “Gather round! One o’clock! At one o’clock on Altamiraland’s main stage! Watch the President of Justice, Regal Bryant, as he stops the evil-doers who threaten the world!”

A few heads turned, and another child ran up to her knee. “He’s got exploding kicks of justice! PRESIDENT’S KICK! And show your ticket to the stand for a free Drink of Justice!”

Although the words sounded a bit goofy coming from her mouth, she smiled nonetheless and handed out a few more tickets. She looked across the way and saw Zelos hopping in desperation toward a group of teenaged girls.

“At the end of the show, you can shake the President’s hand!” he called toward them. The girls giggled, then walked past, rolling their eyes.

By then, Sheena had run out of tickets, so she sauntered over to the frog who couldn’t seem to get rid of his.

“Hey, you. Give me those, I’m out of mine,” she said.

“Whaaat? How did you give all of yours out already?!” Zelos sulked.

Sheena shrugged and grabbed the tickets from the gloved frog hand. “Maybe I’m better with kids than you are,” she teased.

“You just hid them all in your cleavage!” he accused.

“No way. Watch this!” Sheena jogged a little into the crowd and waved the tickets in a demure way. “Free tickets for the children’s show today! President of Justice!” One by one, children grabbed the tickets and parents nodded wearily. She even gave the last little boy a high-five.

With empty hands, Sheena returned to Zelos’s side.

He crossed his arms. “Aw, man. How the heck did you do that?”

“Just face it, Mr. Upbringing. You’re not so great without your face and your body showing!” Sheena gloated.

Zelos deflated for a moment, but soon burst back up at her. “That makes me the prince waiting for my kiss to turn me back into the world’s sexiest man!”

Even through the frog head, he gave puppy eyes.

“Knock it off, you idiot,” Sheena laughed, giving him a small shove.

From their right, a young, gangly kid in park worker attire approached the pair. “Excuse me,” he said.

“Can I help you?” Sheena asked, stepping forward.

“Did you really get the boss’s permission for this?”

“Well—yes, yes we did,” she replied.

The kid seemed unfazed. “I don’t get paid enough for this,” he grumbled, walking away toward the front of the park.

“Neither do we,” Zelos whispered in Sheena’s direction, but it wasn’t loud enough to get through the mask.

“Let’s go backstage. It’s gotta be at least 12:30,” Sheena suggested.

The pair strolled to the center of the park, where the crowd had grown so thick they could hardly see the stage. Above the many heads boasted a sign that read ALTAMIRALAND. It wasn’t bad for an in-park theater, aside from the fact that the seating wasn’t raised and the curtains looked a little sun-blanched. In the back, several kids sat on the shoulders of their parents.

It was easy for them to slip by relatively unburdened. Somehow, nobody seemed to notice their mascot heads until they had already passed through the crowd. They snuck around back to the stage door.

Once inside, Sheena extracted herself from the rabbit head. “I didn’t think it’d be so hot in there!” she howled.

“Try wearing the full-body costume that doesn’t breathe,” Zelos replied. “It’s a good thing it’s getting autumnal.” He removed his own frog head and set it down next to the rabbit.

“Come to think of it, it _is_ a little chillier than I thought it would be,” Sheena pondered. “To be honest, part of the reason I chose Altamira was for the weather! It’s always warm here.”

Zelos shrugged. “You weren’t gonna let me go to the beach anyway.”

A hand rested suddenly on his shoulder. He turned to see a rather trussed-up Regal, sans handcuffs and, it seemed, confidence.

“’Sup, my main man?” Zelos greeted. “That getup fancy enough for you? I guess it isn’t long now!”

Regal’s hair had even been loosely braided to complete the heroic look. But his face was laced with solemnity.

“Chosen, could I speak with you for a moment?” Regal asked quietly. He looked at Sheena. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, I’ll be up there.” Sheena waved her hand before walking up a flight of stairs to the backstage area. She didn’t bother looking as she trotted and ended up running headfirst into one of the actors. “Oof!”

“Watch where you’re going!” the actor hissed. “The show’s about to start!”

Sheena watched as the actor shuffled her way to the wing. Seconds later, the actor burst onto the stage with her mic booming.

“Come one, come all!” the actor cried.

Sheena crossed her arms. “That’s _my_ line,” she said under her breath. But what was she thinking? It’s not like she was a born actor. She’d just tripped up the stairs as gracelessly as ever. Though, she realized Zelos had written the script, and Zelos had also advised her on what to say. Only he would have thought to say something so tacky. Yet somehow, the crowd cheered. A grin weaved its way onto her face.

Meanwhile, the actor continued her opening monologue. “Where are all the kids out there? Hi kids!”

A unanimous, squealing, “HI!” rang out in the air.

“Thank you all for coming to see our one-time only show: The President of Justice, starring Regal Bryant!”

The children cheered and clapped before she continued. “As you all know, Master Regal is both a duke and a hero of Regeneration! He even…”

“Yo!” Zelos poked Sheena’s back, and she whipped around.

“Shh!”

He leaned forward between the curtains. “Ah, we’ve got a full house! Can you believe it?” he whispered with a spark.

Sheena gave an unsure smile. “That lady’s a little over-the-top, isn’t she?” In fact, the actor was demonstrating some sort of imaginary action scene, complete with battle noises. She wasn’t even doing it convincingly, just with gobs of fervor.

“Shame we can’t go out there and show them what’s what, eh?” Zelos lamented.

When Sheena inspected his still-frog-clad figure, she had to stifle a guffaw. “You, fighting the noble Regal Bryant, wearing _that_? I’d pay to see!”

The actor’s voice echoed as she stepped backward and looked into the wing. “How about we try calling Master Regal onstage right now? I need your help… One… Two—“

Zelos waved his arm up into the air at a group of young men who seemed to be loitering backstage.

“You guys, your cue!” he jockeyed.

The men gathered and pushed past Sheena, onto the main marley. They jumped like apes around the hapless actor.

“Stop right there!” one of them called. He was wearing a terrible curly wig with red frizz that created a halo around his head.

Two of the men seized the actor and held her hands behind her back. “Oh, no! It’s the terrible archenemy, Magnius!”

Zelos chuckled offstage.

“Wasn’t he one of those Grand Cardinals?” Sheena asked.

“Tch, yeah, he was. Never did like me,” Zelos rambled, “which is odd, because, who doesn’t. Used to make fun of my hair like his was so much better…”

Sheena squinted at the wig on the fake baddie, then eyed Zelos. “Don’t tell me you wrote this about him because he insulted your _hair_.”

The look on his face remained curious. “You know he murdered a whole bunch of Sylvaranti, too, right?”

“That, too,” Sheena echoed emptily.

Meanwhile, the baddies were scouring the audience for little kids to take on stage. Regal finally took his cue from the rafters. Still holding the script, he boomed, “I order you to stop!”

Regal’s voice was not quite as loud as the screams of the kids, but luckily, Stage Magnius acknowledged the line and let out a blood-curdling, “Whaaaaat?!”

“As the symbol for peace and prosperity,” Regal paused. He took a deep breath. “I cannot permit this to go on in the peaceful town of Altamira!”

“Show yourself!” Stage Magnius growled.

At that time, the curtain between the actual proscenium and the ALTAMIRALAND logo began to open. Regal scrambled with the script and finally threw it stage left as the curtain revealed him, causing him to strike a strong pose. The gaudy cape behind him even fluttered with the wind.

“I SEE HIM! I SEE HIM!” one of the kids shouted.

“Whoa! He’s so cool!”

Regal continued. “For the good of the people, for the sake of Altamira, I have come to fight evil! They call me… THE PRESIDENT OF JUSTICE!”

Whether it was a modicum of added confidence from the kids or just the way he did things, Regal bounded down from the rafters and onto the stage quite gracefully.

“Ah, but we have hostages now!” Stage Magnius continued. He pointed to one of his baddies, who had captured a young boy in the audience.

Regal looked stern. Then concentrated. Then frustrated.

Zelos jumped desperately backstage. “REEGS! The line is about DEFENSELESS CHILDREN!” he whispered hoarsely.

“He’s just a little nervous,” Sheena consoled.

Onstage, Regal straightened up. “I won’t allow you to harm these defenseless children!”

“Get him!” Stage Magnius ordered.

In that moment, it became like battles in the Regeneration days. Regal deftly maneuvered between the baddies and knocked them over with effortless choreography. “REGAL KICK!” The shockwaves of accompanying cymbals resounded through the air, soon to be replaced by hollers and cheers of audience members. Regal, though overdramatic as he seemed, provided just the right balance of character as he fought. They ate it up.

“I can’t believe this is actually working!” Sheena giggled.

“ _Duh_ , it’s working. After all, I was the one who stayed up all night slaving over it!” Zelos boasted. “Goes back to the idea that for whatever you wanna do, you’ve gotta involve the public…”

He tilted his head back, smiling at himself. When he opened his eyes, something wasn’t right. The platform Regal had been standing on before began to sway. He looked at Sheena, then to a pair of stagehands nearby who had a similar countenance of panic.

“I don’t want anybody to get hurt, especially the President!” one whispered.

Zelos strode toward them. “What the hell’s going on?”

Sheena snapped her head. “Did I hear something about ‘getting hurt?’”

“N-no?” the whisperer said.

“Actually, the beams that are being used to support the walkway… They’re a bit old, you know, a bit rusted… and we think when the President jumped off it, it might have… er… It might have… caused a disturbance?” the accomplice squeaked.

“So they’re in danger?” Sheena incised. She looked up at the stage’s catwalks to see everything swaying. “Immediate danger!”

“I—I thought it would hold out for just this one show, and… Oh no, I’m really sorry!”

Sheena’s eyes shot desperately at Zelos. “What are we gonna do?!”

“Dammit, there’s no way we can stop it now,” he replied, peeking through the curtains to see the show still active. Sheena placed her hand on Zelos’s shoulder to stop him from checking.

“Guys, can you tell me if there’s one side that’s worse than the other?”

“W-well, there’s a central beam that crumbled before we even started. It may… hold up the sign…?” the initial whisperer said, barely.

Sheena’s grip on Zelos’s shoulder tightened. “We have to stop the show,” she urged. In her eyes, something primal flashed. “It would be a tragedy. Those kids! And Regal!”

Zelos tried to shake her. “What are we going to do about something that’s probably rusted over? It’s gonna fall anyway, so we should just warn Regal to step back or—”

The air thickened with the sound of metal on metal, shearing ever so slightly. Everyone backstage and onstage paused for a moment.

Except for Stage Magnius. “Now is my chance! My master arte, HELL’S BOMB!” he shouted.

The light cue for his spotlight was instead directed at Regal, who responded with the long-awaited, “PRESIDENT’S KICK!”

The noise of the metal rang out louder; the ALTAMIRALAND sign lurched forward. Not even a half a second later, Zelos dashed to the middle of the stage, pushing Sheena with him. They shared a brief glance before settling into an old battle pattern.

Zelos shed half of the frog costume before unleashing his sword. Kicking upward, he shouted, “Victory Light Spear!”

At the same time, Sheena leapt into a forward roll to the front row of the audience. She whipped around and pulled a card out of thin air. “Guardian Seal!”

Zelos’s arte hurtled up to the arch and blasted the sign upward into pieces. Letters scattered and flew across the crowd and onto the stage. But Sheena’s seal had created a barrier around the crowd and actors. The damage done, Zelos landed back on the stage. It was over instantaneously.

Sheena knelt, letting the seal dissolve.

“That was close,” she gasped. Surrounding her, children screeched and cried. She could already see parents taking their children’s hands and dashing for safety. Desperately, she searched for the actors.

“Regal, are you all right?” Stage Magnius asked. He was premature in his dramatic death pose, but was unhurt.

“I’m fine. But the show is…” Regal began. He stood to brush himself off.

While many of the actors struggled to recover from the shock, Zelos struck a proud pose, still half in his frog suit. Sheena rolled her eyes as she made her way back to the stage.

From the crowd, several of the children had noticed the new swath of red hair.

“Mommy! Mommy, it’s the Chosen One!”

Slowly, there were more voices raising in the din.

“My, is it really him?”

“The Chosen saved them!”

“Did you say the Chosen?”

“It’s the Chosen One!”

“My!”

Now hands came together in applause; now Zelos took a step forward with practiced humility.

Sheena, unrecognized, turned down her lips. “Really, of all the…” So now the Chosen had actually proven useful, if not to his own constructed plot? This was the place he’d find his redemption? Just the one time wouldn’t be good enough. It would, however, be a good way for the terrorists to find out where they were…

But what if it weren’t just one time? That Magnius actor with the awful red wig could look more convincing in a tamed one.

She sidled over to the President of Justice. “Hey, Regal… Do you think maybe this could…?”

Knowingly, he nodded. “Indeed, it could work.”

Zelos continued to wave and smile somewhat sheepishly. _For the kids_ , he’d say later, but he really hadn’t been met with this much praise outside of an all-female party in… well, ever. He milked their enthusiasm.

“Well, I’m glad we’ve gotten out of this dilemma, but,” Sheena scolded, “it’s about time to go, don’t you think?”

When Zelos didn’t move, she tiptoed beside him. “Hey, the terrorists… Zelos!”

“Aw, just a little more?” he pleaded.

“Um, no!” She began to drag him by the ear to the tune of a couple laughs from the audience. The cast bowed, the audience went wild, and that was it.

Later—of course, after the frog and the rabbit were returned to the Lezareno Company—Zelos and Sheena snuck out of the city limits. The sun drooped in the sky. It was enough light to carry them to the far, black-sanded beach.

“That was… something, huh?” Sheena remarked.

“I have a feeling we’re going to need to lie low for a bit,” Zelos replied. “I actually showed my face out there, y’know.”

He shrugged the rucksack from his shoulder and let it fall to the sand.

“Actually, I think you pretty much guaranteed your safety,” Sheena said. “They’re all expecting you to return, so they’ll have to let one of those actors play you.” 

“Ugh! One of those actors?” he recoiled. “Please! None of them could pass for the manliness that is the Great Zelos Wilder.”

Sheena glared with a grin. “Nope, still an idiot.”

He swooped in closer to her. “So you’re saying there was doubt?”

“… Nope!” she feigned, still smirking.

“Not even with that ingenious play I wrote?” He pouted, dropping to the ground.

“Nope.”

“Not even when I saved the whole audience from being hit with that sign?”

Sheena sat down next to him. “You didn’t do all of it. I was the one that guarded them.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Oh, I know why I’m an idiot now! I didn’t make you keep that bunny suit,” he laughed.

Sheena shoved him with her foot. “Aaaall right.”

“Heh. I knew there was a reason I kept you around,” Zelos resigned. His eyes traced to the clouded sky, which glowed in the distance from the lights of Altamira. “I guess you _are_ pretty good with kids, though.”

“Don’t get any weird ideas!”

Zelos’s laughter rang out into the clear, brackish air. “I think my creativity’s all used up. I’m just a no-good, wild horse.”

He laid back into the sand with his arms outstretched.

“A wild horse.”


	5. Salt

**5\. SALT**

Potatoes. Not exactly the best form of currency, and yet even the Chosen couldn't escape the bartering establishments of Sylvarant. Or the Potato Festival.

Zelos and Sheena found themselves at the edge of the continent with no real desire to travel to Palmacosta. The only other option was a rickety passenger vessel headed toward Izoold, and it'd have to do. Back to the bartering—the ship's captain, a middle-aged man with a grudge, seemed to think that money wouldn't buy these particular passengers' trip.

It could have been due to the fact that Zelos had disguised himself as a homeless man. A couple days' worth of stubble lined his chin and there was a smear of charcoal dust across his face from the last fire they'd kicked out. The hat that accompanied him to the first fork in the path was now dirty and dented to one side permanently. Sheena was considerably less shabby, but carrying the rucksack and a muddied cloak didn't make the case for royalty.

So, the captain's barter was for the pair to peel all the potatoes in the galley—which was nearly done, as the slimy potatoes piled high. Just in time to land at the noisy port.

Sheena stood up and tried to find something to wipe away the slick potato slime. "Of all the strange things we've had to do on this journey so far…"

"Hey, are you quitting on me?" Zelos grilled. He still peeled away with his own blade, which was beginning to dull.

"There's only two left, Zelos."

"What?" He turned his head and realized she was right. "How did you get through so many more than me?"

She shrugged. "Dunno. You're Mister Upbringing, why don't you tell me?" Cautiously walking toward the door, she spied a stack of paper. "Aha!"

She wiped her hands on the top sheet, which was blank. It took away enough of the slime that she felt ready to go above decks to finish the job with some water. But just as she crumpled the paper, she noticed the newsprint below it. "What's this?"

"Hm?" Zelos called, taking on the penultimate spud.

"It's the newspaper," she stated. "Yesterday's, even."

"Freebie with the shipment. Anything good?"

Sheena brandished it fully, then scanned her eyes across the front page. Mostly, she'd be worried if any headlines contained the words "Chosen" and "Whereabouts," but that didn't seem to be news. Good enough; not like any newspaper wanted to cover how the Chosen was currently swimming in peels under the deck of some random ship owned by a cooking enthusiast.

"' _Provincial Potato Pageant Pays,_ ' is one of the stories," sheremarked.

"Ain't it just swell," Zelos mocked. "I'll bet it's that one guy."

"Nah, this is just a local paper." Sheena scanned to the story beneath the fold. "Uh oh. ' _Abduction on the High Seas_ '…"

Zelos flung the potato into the overflowing pile and picked up the last one. "Why's that 'uh-oh?'"

The article continued,  _'… Authorities are still on the lookout for ex-convict and con artist, Geoffrey Gifford. Additionally, search parties have been arranged to look for the missing persons, who are allegedly females under the age of 18. The young ladies may have been enticed by an offer to serve in noble houses of Tethe'allans, but the service industry in Meltokio denies any involvement with the trafficking._ '

"… Trafficking!" Sheena exclaimed.

"Like, humans, or these potatoes?" Zelos held up his potato as though it would explode.

"Like… they mention Meltokio!" As she kept reading, a couple of familiar names were dropped. Countess Rattenmeier, whom she'd met at the heroes' ball over a year ago, was interviewed… "Look, there's Regal, too!" Just mentioning that he'd declined an interview—likely trying to stir up the scandal that happened with Alicia… "And… you."

Zelos placed the last potato in with the rest and shot up. "What the hell? I haven't been there for… weeks, now. How could I…?"

"Obviously, they couldn't interview you because you're ' _away on business_.'"

"Remind me to thank Sylvarant," he sighed.

"But it looks like someone's trying to forge your signature on the trafficking documents," Sheena said. "This is very strange."

"I'll say. I mean, I, of all people, don't need to traffic women into slavery to get them to join my harem, am I right?"

Sharply and swiftly, Sheena punched his arm. "This is serious. I'm going above decks and you can join me when you decide this is your problem, too."

As she stormed away, the paper fluttered to the ground. Zelos pinched it between two sticky fingers and set it back in its place. He glanced at the mess they'd made then spotted a towel beneath a circular window. "And she says I'm the idiot," he muttered.

He retrieved the towel and wiped his hands, making a pass over both sides of his sword afterward. Outside the window, he could see skies bluer and clearer than they'd been since before Altamira. But watching the ship rock gently brought back his slight sense of seasickness. The ship next to them in the dock seemed to sway in the opposite direction, intensifying the motion.

"Ugh…" Zelos peered to the side of the window, where the ship's name crackled in old paint. " _Swordfish_ , huh? More like sore stomach."

He tossed the rag back to the floor and made his way to the main deck. It seemed Sheena had found the captain and was chatting him up. She had her hands on her hips, though, which usually meant that she was on her guard.

What, because of his unperturbed attitude? Obviously, the slave trade was a grievous wrong in the United World, but it's not like he could do anything about someone forging his signature if he didn't know who it was. He suspected the terrorist group, if only because they had no other motive than to defame and destroy him. And for that reason, it was unexpected—interesting—that Sheena chose to be so upset.

Normally, she had Mizuho affairs to attend to, but it was now that Zelos realized she hadn't been in contact with them. Not even Orochi. She was completely cut off from the duties she'd have done, or missions she'd have taken. Perhaps this trafficking would have been curtailed if Mizuho knew about it, even.

Guilt washed over.

Zelos strode over to the two. "Yo! What's goin' on?"

"As I was just mentioning," Sheena said, "we've finished the potato job."

The captain nodded. "Sure 'nough. Yer free to go."

"I do have a question, though," she added. "Have you heard of anything weird happening in town, with the ships or anything?"

Zelos gave her a serious look.

"Well," the captain began. He scratched the back of his head gruffly. "I know that security 'round here'n been mighty increased. Took me nearin' forever to dock and present yer papers, so 's good you two took your sweet time, eh?" He gave an unsteady, deep laugh.

Sheena nodded. "I see. Just in Izoold?"

"Welp, it was 'bout twice as much time here's anywhere. You might wanna watch your pretty little be-hind, missy."

Sheena's face fell.

"There's a rascal out who's stealin' pretties to sell to that hack Chosen out west," the captain explained.

Zelos looked at Sheena with raised eyebrows. "Y'hear that? He could snatch you up."

"You'd better protect yer little… er… what was yer name again?"

Sheena glared hard at Zelos. "It's—Zoe…"

The captain patted his hand upon the Chosen's shoulder. "Keep an eye on that one. She's got spunk, eh heh heh!"

"Oh, I'll keep my eye on her, all right," Zelos smirked.

"What he means to say is  _thank you_ , and we'll be going now. Good luck with your potatoes!" Sheena said hurriedly, pulling Zelos by the arm across the deck.

When they made it to the wooden dock below, Zelos replaced his floppy hat. The "security" the captain had mentioned was far over at the entrance to the docks, and it consisted of one man in a stiff uniform. The man didn't even appear to be armed.

"What is this, amateur hour?" Zelos groaned.

Meanwhile, Sheena smelled something awry. The guard's back was turned, but behind him by some distance a shady pair of grunts were standing uncomfortably close to each other. She watched carefully until it seemed they were shaking hands—a common exchange gesture for contraband.

She ribbed him quietly. "Over there."

Paper. An envelope? Zelos couldn't quite make it out, but he knew what she was pointing to was unusual for even the hickly likes of Izoold. That equaled runoff from Tethe'alla. "Do you seriously think this is something worth pursuing?"

"Listen," Sheena whispered. "That guard either doesn't know or doesn't care. Why shouldn't we? It's not like we don't have the time for a little, y'know, justice."

Zelos huffed. Why was she fighting him on this? Wasn't it already enough that the terrorists could've been trailing them? "Y'know, sometimes you're like Lloyd with tits," he commented; a usual distracter.

Sheena frowned, but her attention was divided by watching the men. "And sometimes,  _you_  only do things when there are women involved," she bit back.

"Ouch. Wait, that doesn't come with a side of punching me?"

"Quit it! We've got worse things to worry about," she hissed. "Follow me!"

She dashed toward the loiterers with Zelos, slightly more bogged down with luggage, in tow.

"Hey!"

The grunts looked up, but kept closed fists.

"What are you lookin' at, chickie?" one of them challenged.

"What's in your hand, there?" Sheena pointed. Behind her, Zelos sized up the men and kept shade in his eyes.

Neither of the men budged. "Why do you need to know?" the one on the right asked. His grip tightened; it was he who had received.

"Well, I…" Sheena thought for a moment. Was it worth it to expose her identity? She was already betraying any scrap of ninjahood by approaching them outright. Besides, it was just a nagging guess that they were exchanging documents and not some type of drug. Not every ninja guess developed.

The one on the left laughed darkly. "What'cha gonna do about it, sweet-cheeks?"

She could have encircled them in a round of seals and cast a powerful summon, but now that he'd insulted her based on her femininity, she felt more like humiliating them.

She reared back and punched that one in the face. Then, without pausing, she whipped around and kicked the other man backward. Zelos lurched forward and caught the first one, holding him in a headlock. The second one was caught underneath Sheena's boot.

"Give me what's in your hand," she demanded. When he tried to escape, Sheena dug her heel under his sternum. "Give it to me!"

"A—augh!" the man managed. His right hand opened to reveal a crumpled piece of paper.

Sheena leaned down to pluck it from him. As she straightened it, she saw a scribbled signature line at the bottom. "Aha!"

She turned to the man Zelos was holding. For good measure, she whipped out a seal and pasted it on his mouth. "Hmph! Try calling me sweet-cheeks again!"

"Yeah, she much prefers the term  _hunny_ ," Zelos chirped.

Between reading lines of the document, Sheena casually took out another seal and threw it across to Zelos's mouth as well.

"Hhhhng!" he protested. The nicknaming grunt struggled to break free in the meantime, but Zelos found it easy to entangle him with his own movements.

"Here, read the bottom line," Sheena instructed, holding the document up to Zelos's face. "Is that your signature?"

"Nn," he grunted while shaking his head.

"See, you ought to listen to me more often! I knew these guys were up to no good!"

"Did you just ask if that was  _his_ signature?" the man on the ground coughed.

Sheena nodded her head. "You betcha."

"So… he's the Chosen?"

Zelos rolled his eyes. Duh, they weren't going to recognize him with that getup and all the junk on his face. Why was everyone so surprised when he turned up if nobody knew where he was?

He let go of the grunt, unsheathing his sword with his right hand and tearing the seal off his mouth with the left. The pain on his skin made him grimace a little harder as he pointed his sword.

"That's right, you bastards. I'm the Great Zelos Wilder, Chosen of Tethe'alla," he dropped. "Mind telling us where this forgery was headed?"

Sheena removed her foot from the chest of the grunt below, and the man sat up with a confused expression.

"W-we… Hey, listen, we didn't know that was a forgery," he said.

"Yeah, right. You can smell the carbon on it," Zelos grumbled. He waggled his sword forward and the man on the other end took a step back, still unable to remove the seal over his mouth.

"Where were you going with it?" Sheena repeated.

Her grunt didn't say a word, so she took out yet another handful of seals and set them aflame.

"Ah—ah! Our captain… we were just looking for work, you see," the man stuttered.

"And your ship?" Zelos asked.

"The  _Swordfish_ … she's right there. But!" He paused and pointed to the ship. "There's a shipload of men inside. They don't take well to mutiny."

Calculatingly, Zelos grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled it down. He sighed. "Look. This means I have more power than you can possibly imagine." Rote. It was the same monologue he'd been taught to say, signifying nothing. And it wasn't even the true Cruxis Crystal, but wasn't he a good actor.

At least the man would either shut up or challenge him further, and Zelos was always prepared for both. He continued. "I can tell you're bluffing. I wanna know where your captain is, since you don't seem to have mentioned him. If you're really a sailor, you'd have said something by now."

"Mmmm!"

Behind him, the mouthy one was gesturing helplessly at the seal on his mouth. Sheena shot another seal that swiftly knocked the first one off.

"The captain's at the inn with Gifford!" the man gasped.

His companion's shocked face chilled the air. "Oy, you're about to get in trouble. I'm not sticking around to find out," he uttered, turning on his heel.

"I don't think so," Zelos declared, and he dove and knocked the deserter upside the head with the butt of his sword. After the man fell to the ground, the sword was re-sheathed. "Shall we, Sheena?"

Sheena upturned her chin toward the man who remained. "You got anything else you'd like to tell us?"

"He wasn't joking about the men in the ship," he mumbled.

With a heaving sigh, Zelos rolled his eyes. "Well, shall we rock-paper-scissors it?" he asked Sheena sidelong.

"Why don't you just go for the inn? If you recall, there should be some  _girls_  there," Sheena griped.

"Oh.  _Oh_."

So she  _was_ going to play that card.

There was nothing jovial in her face as she straightened up and strutted down the dock.

He'd have liked to imagine it was from jealousy, but he knew better. The strain didn't escape him either; one night per location, and nothing as forgiving as Rheairds. Stopping her would have done nothing but open the door to bickering.

His stomach still churned from the sea, and from so many potatoes. If there really were women in trouble, it'd be wrong of him not to go immediately. But if Sheena got in trouble, say, got cornered among thirty men with no ally to heal her—there was really no way of knowing how many enemies there were on that boat. Not that it was a particularly large boat, but that brought about the question of just how many women would be stowed away in some barrel. Doing the math from how it compared with the only slightly smaller ship he'd arrived in…

"Y'gonna just stand there makin' a fool of me?" a voice came from his right.

The man who'd been spared now knelt to revive his wounded cohort, glancing nervously at the Chosen. When Zelos himself turned to retort, there must have been a crowd of twenty bystanders.

"Not that I  _am_  making a fool of you," he muttered. "But you know what? You can hand over your uniform…"

* * *

The sandy, familiar path swept him past the under-hill prison, the residences, and the shipwrecked old docks before leading him to the inn. From the outside, nothing seemed off. In fact, he was certain he'd have missed the whole thing if Sheena hadn't picked up that paper. Reluctantly, he added Old Man Tater of the Slimy Rind to his list of people to thank when this was all over.

When would it be over, though? The connection between kidnappings of women and direct terrorism on his house wasn't manifesting. In his previous life, he was merely pardoned for rumors about what naughty things he'd done. Now, other people were committing convincing misdeeds in his name.

This, for instance, could have come out of the story of when he'd hired a poor child's mother at the Wilder estate. It wasn't pity nor was it charity: she had to work her way through debt before earning respect. So now, "the Great Chosen is just hiring anyone off the streets? How crude! Well if he's just hiring  _anyone._ Maybe he could hire me. Oooh, sign me up!"

He could hear the cacophony through Sebastian's wizened ears. It wasn't difficult to find the source of the gossip, and it never would be. Those damn noblewomen had more power than magitechnology when it came to who's-who and what's-what. It was Elena's one-headed Aska costume; surely the other head was out talking about the first head, because one can't talk behind one other's back when the back belongs to both. Oh, a fitting display of wealth that would have been.

Zelos thanked the starchy ground of Sylvarant. There were reasons why he'd never play hero to noblewomen by day or by night. At least if these trafficked girls were in trouble, they'd be grateful. Not just this-minute grateful, tomorrow denouncing your outfit to spite your wandering attention.

Then again, the wandering-attention part applied.

Upon opening the door to the inn, an anticipated group of ruffians sprawled in the space. Anywhere else would have had a receptionist, but this shack was akin to a bed-and-breakfast, so there was no friendly face to greet. Five sailors in uniform looked ready to strike. The captain wore a traditional outfit; then, there was a man with a nose that didn't fit his face, and he held a piece of paper with a flimsiness equal to tracing paper.

Ah. And there were the girls. Four young ladies huddled in a far corner. There was also a man out of uniform near them.

Barely a head turned when Zelos had entered, presumably due to the agency of borrowed duds. He took advantage and snuck across the wall toward an empty chair in the corner.

One of the girls, who seemed to be at odds with the man out of uniform, shouted, "I'm not going back to the boondocks! Why would I go back to working the fields all day, covered in dirt, when I could go to the city and be the Chosen's attendant?!"

So the paper  _wasn't_  lying for once. Judging from the shrill tone of her voice, the girl put a lot of weight on this hope of being his attendant, and of leaving Sylvarant. How swiftly news of Tethe'alla had traveled. It hadn't been a year and a half, yet trends traveled and rooted. Sickening that this girl could have the delusion that she'd be Zelos's attendant when he knew the impossible logistics. It'd be no good to offer her the job for real—like Sebastian needed anyone else to take care of.

"I need a life to be proud of, brother!"

"Mia, your life would be a lie! There are no such things as these attendant scouts," a male voice boomed, presumably her brother. "Didn't you hear? The Chosen left Meltokio all of a sudden. That was weeks ago and nobody knows where he is!"

Stifling a scoff, Zelos tilted his chin down. So, the girl; that man out of uniform was her brother. Maybe the other girls were her friends, since they didn't seem as invested.

But while Zelos was busy trying to figure out the connections, a skeezy-looking man butted in. "How could a simple traveler know such a thing? You think I could lie about the Great Chosen's signature, right here?"

My, the many papers flying around with his fake signature. Tracking them might take longer than every Exsphere. Maybe he'd hire that girl after all—to be a personal assistant in verifying what was and wasn't his.

"But… but the boy said it was true…"

"What boy is that, then, eh?" —This time, a different man spoke.

"No offense," which was a phrase that never preceded a righteous cause, and spoken by the document-wielder, "but if you truly loved your sister, you'd have taken better care of her. That is, if you understand what love is."

Zelos seethed. Even if it was none of his business, yes—and even if there were no way of knowing how the brother actually treated his sister—he had to make his presence known.

"Love, you say?" barely uttered.

In the stunning silence, twelve faces examined him. One, a sailor, finally spoke. "Wh-what do you think yer doin'?"

"Love—y'know, that thing you're spewing?" When nobody answered him, he continued, and stood up. "The thing that means keeping someone's feelings in mind. The thing that means wishing the best for someone you care about. I just think it's not a word to be used lightly by the likes of  _you_."

The man with the nose sighed into his palm. "Captain, get your sailor under control before we must take  _care_  of him."

"Th-this one's—" The captain examined Zelos with unreliable eyes, swooping closer. A fogey he must've been for not realizing this redhead was different from the grunt on the dock. "This one was just hanging around the port and said he was looking for work outside of potatoes, and… I don't know what-chyer deal is, but what you're doing is traitorous!"

Zelos couldn't even control the swing of his arm that let fly the punch. Like so, the captain staggered to the floor, holding his jaw. Perhaps no soul in the room could understand the sweet revenge in that clocking, but Zelos wasn't about to be called a traitor again for something that was egregiously evil.

That wasn't to say there was no reaction from the audience whose attention was now rapt upon him. The girls gasped, and the sailors, unsure, began to encircle him.

"What? It's not like he had a pretty face before or something," Zelos quipped, shaking his hand from the sting.

"Who in the hell do you think you are?" the man with the nose sneered, now squaring off with him. But Zelos wouldn't match his ire.

"Who do I think I am? Well," Zelos laughed. "Sometimes, I'm the man on the docks looking for a job guarding a ship, and then doing that job poorly. Other times, I'm a warrior of love and justice. But most days, I'm just a man who left Meltokio suddenly a few weeks ago…"

A flush crawled across the face of the brother, whose words had been stolen. "You're—"

"BUT!" Zelos hushed. "You may all know me as—"

Just before Zelos revealed himself, he was bumped forward by some force behind him. "Augh!"

"I took care of the ones inside the boat, Zelos!"

Zelos turned around to see Sheena, recovering from her stumble. Not a scratch on her but her brow was slick with sweat.

"Way to ruin the surprise!" he shouted at her, a little more juvenilely than the onlookers might have expected.

The man with the nose must have jumped half a foot off the ground. "Zelos—You mean Zelos Wilder!"

"… Master Zelos?" The girls tittered amongst themselves.

"You mean that's…?"

"There is…  _no_  way…"

Sheena shared a look with the Chosen, who looked more ragged than the public remembered. They'd never seen his face so much as peppered with stubble, much less covered in coal. It reminded him of when he'd worn just a mask and hat, not even new clothes, and completely fooled everyone in Meltokio.

Disgusting. What was the purpose of being a figurehead if nobody recognized the figure's head? They only seemed to care when he was shined-up and pretty.

From the hubbub, the distinguished man's rumbling laugh rose. "You mean to tell me with your face looking like  _that_  that you're supposed to be the Great, 'Handsome' Chosen of Tethe'alla? That's impossible!" The man then turned to his cronies with a mocking, " _It's not like he had a pretty face before, or something_."

Sheena stifled a laugh.

"See, now, look what you've done," Zelos whined. "Nobody recognizes me when my face is all jacked up."

Sheena puffed up and suddenly had nowhere to put her hands flitting about. "It was your idea to play your—your ridiculous dress-up!"

"Silence! If you really are the Chosen, where's your tangible proof?" the man challenged.

Zelos chuckled. He'd been thinking up this new one for ages. "Fine by me. I'll show you your proof," he sang.

Instead of pulling down the collar of this stolen shirt, Zelos grabbed the bottom of the shirt and lifted it up his chest until the Cruxis Crystal showed. The traveling had really done wonders for his musculature, he'd have to admit.

The ladies in the room agreed by setting off a squeal with the intensity of a siren—the ladies except Sheena, of course.

"Only two of these in the world, you know," he bragged.

One of the young ladies keeled backward, caught by her friend. Zelos took the opportunity to fly across the room to her. "Fear not, my hunnies! The Great Zelos Wilder is here to save the day. There's no time for fainting, except for into my arms!"

In the space Zelos left, Sheena widened her stance. She brandished a familiar piece of paper from her obi.

"All right," she asserted. "Mister Gifford! You're hereby charged of forging the Chosen's signature in order to traffic young girls to sell into slavery or worse! You should have kept a better eye on  _this_!"

Although she waved the paper in front of nosey Gifford, the man seemed interested in circling his own mind.

"Who would have thought the Chosen would have ended up here, during a  _potato_  festival no less!" Gifford paced wildly, then stopped to flail his arms at the real sailors. "Don't just stand there—kill him!"

The five underling sailors launched themselves clumsily toward the Chosen. In the confusion and haste, none of them had realized Zelos was already casting a spell. In mere seconds, the lot of them were knocked flat, swords and all.

"Thanks for making me look good," Zelos scoffed, dusting himself off.

Again, the girls chimed in with a nearly-unison, "Master Zelooooos!"

But while the majority of the room was wounded with either magic or Cupid's arrow, Gifford snuck behind the girl called Mia and grabbed her by the wrist and locking her into a hold.

"Ah! Let me go!" Mia cried, wriggling to no avail.

Gifford cackled. "Don't any of you move, or I'll kill the girl!"

It was then that the glint of a knife bounced from the ceiling into the eyes of the Chosen.

Sheena was the first to scuttle protectively in front of the other girls (and the Chosen, by proximity). "Be careful!"

But Mia's quiet brother ran up to Gifford.

"Here comes trouble," Zelos shouted, now throwing out an arm to shield the girls on the side opposite Sheena.

With a sneer toward the sharp-nosed man, he added, "For you, I mean. Not for us, so much."

While Zelos distracted Gifford, Mia's brother wrenched the girl free. He began to throw punches that first let the knife bounce out of Gifford's hand, but then sent Gifford to the floor himself. The kid must've been a wrestler. Gifford was pinned completely.

"Let me go! I'll—kill—you!" Gifford choked.

"Mia, look away," the brother warned. In the next moment, he began to beat Gifford with a strength that, outside of an Exsphere, could onlybe seen deep in the country. Even Sheena winced.

Mia didn't follow her brother's advice, instead watching with horror behind her eyes. "Chosen!" she yelped. "Chosen, please help my brother!"

"Uh…" Zelos, having already knocked out everyone else in the room, floundered.

"Please, Great Chosen?" Mia pleaded, now tearing.

"It's just that… he doesn't need my help," Zelos responded. "I don't see what's so bad about working the fields. Isn't this awfully helpful?"

Meanwhile, Mia's brother swung and swung. "Apologize!" he punctuated. "I—won't—stop—until—you do!"

Mia clenched her fists before breaking down and dashing to her brother. "Stop! Please! You're going to kill him. Please! I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!" Mia cried, tears streaming down her face.

With no warning, she dropped to her knees and leaned in to embrace her brother. Gifford's unmoving body was beneath them, but it didn't hamper her wailing into her brother's chest. The boy's arms did finally stop swinging from her force.

Zelos scrunched up his nose.

There was no artifice. There was no veneer to the way Mia's brother knocked that man to the floor. His knuckles were split and bloody. If only it were so easy as waving one's hand, or, say, entrusting a precious gem for years.

So, what—if you beat someone up for your sister, you suddenly get her respect even though a minute ago she denounced your entire lifestyle? Not to say that Zelos hadn't used brute force before, but it seemed excessive.

Movement from a nearby window distracted Zelos from his thoughts.

"Uh, Zelos?" Sheena interjected. "Maybe wanna take a look at that?"

Outside, a man was peering into the scene. Not only that, but the man wasn't wearing clothes: the man from the dock. And behind him, men in uniform approached the inn.

He looked at Sheena.

He looked down at his stolen uniform.

He looked at Sheena.

"I didn't know Izoold even had cops," Zelos said, slightly annoyed. He turned to the young girls and gave a sweeping bow. "Ladies, I must bid you adieu. Parting is sorrow, et cetera!"

The three ladies took their turns whining, "Whyyyyy?" "Master Zelos!" "Please stay!"

"Sorry! Gotta skedaddle," Zelos rushed. He gave a final wink before turning past Sheena. He grabbed her hand along the way. It wasn't a run, but a sprint as the door handle jiggled behind them.

Just in time, the two made it through the back kitchen—a lucky memory from the Regeneration journey—out the door and down the rickety wooden steps. While they hadn't been followed, they likely left a chef confused.

Catching her breath, Sheena gasped, "You're acting like they're gonna kill us!" She took back her hand and held it to her chest.

"I don't know that they won't," Zelos noted. His hands flew up to the collar of the uniform.

Sheena stared. "So, what, you're gonna give it back?"

He was already working his way down the row of buttons. "Not give, exactly. Give me the backpack."

Sheena unslung the sagging sack and kicked it over to the Chosen. As her eye wandered upward, she couldn't help but notice Zelos's exposed abdomen. Not like she hadn't seen it before. Like, moments before. And it wasn't that she wasn't used to that sort of thing. Regal and his midriff and all. But just in the shimmer of the sunlight and the contrast of his dirtied face, it made her glance again. What happened to that privileged, lazy nobleman?

Oh, it hadn't gone unnoticed; Zelos made a lascivious face.

"I'm going to keep watch," she announced with a groan. She reeled and turned the other way, seeking the safety of the building's corner.

"Oh, come on, now, the show's just starting!" Zelos crooned.

Whether or not Sheena looked, he'd strip off the uniform and fling it on the grass. But the rucksack wasn't providing his replacements easily. The shirt, yes, but the pants? Of course: buried at the bottom.

Something caught Sheena's eye. An old, wooden cart rattled down the road just beyond the inn. It was loaded with hay. One ragged horse pulled the cart, encouraged only by a hunched-over man. Among the chaos that had accumulated around front, the cart emerged untouched. Klutzy ninja though she was, she recognized an escape route.

"Zelos, look!" Sheena urged. She turned to him only to see him still half-dressed. " _Really_?!"

"Gimme a sec!"

"We don't  _have_  a sec. That was our getaway!" she yelped.

Waiting another second would have cost her the window. Sheena sprinted over to the disappearing cart, throwing in a flip for good measure.

Zelos—one leg in the pant leg, and one pant leg yet dragging on the ground—picked up the still-open rucksack. He hobbled in Sheena's wake.

"Hey!" Sheena called. "Sir, wait!"

The driver of the cart turned his head, but didn't slow the horse.

"Sorry! 'Scuze me, but is there any chance you can spare us a ride?" Behind her, Zelos was still half-running, half-staggering in what had to have been his least charming moment as the charming Chosen.

"Eh hah!" the old man laughed.

"Would you take spare change for fare?" Sheena offered. She jogged to keep pace with the horse.

The man glanced at Zelos, then back at Sheena. "You say he's with you?"

Through her teeth, Sheena replied, "Wouldn't say 'with' so much as 'unfortunately near,' but yeah…"

"Heh hah! That clown's making me laugh hardest I have in a week. Why don't y'all hitch a ride in back?"

Sheena's eyes widened. "You mean that?"

The man continued to chuckle. "If he can keep his britches while he jumps on, y'all can ride for free 'til I get where I'm goin'," he compromised.

Sheena motioned with her whole arm for Zelos to run faster.

"Take this," Zelos said, holding out the open bag. Sheena begrudgingly trotted back to him to grab it, but quickly vaulted onto the cart.

"Come on!" Sheena shouted.

Zelos paused to sort out his pants, shoving his leg through the dusty, dragged-along cloth. Up with the pants, across with the belt, and forward at the cart. In a couple closing leaps, Zelos paced with the horse and jumped up into the piling bales.

Clumps of hay flew into the air and down the path behind them. But he'd made it.

"Yee-haw!" the driver cheered in front, not stopping his horse for a moment.

"Is this guy a farmer or a bad actor?" Zelos snarked.

"He's a genius," Sheena said matter-of-factly. She settled into the hay.

Zelos flopped onto his back and sprawled out his arms. "You don't say?"

"He called you a clown."

He tilted his head. Then, out of nowhere rose an uproarious laugh. "That's a new one! Why didn't you think of that?"

"Because you'll still be an idiot no matter what you do," Sheena said, and smiled.

In the distance, the crowd that had flooded the inn began to trickle out. It was no surprise that the Izoold police didn't have enough manpower to arrest every member of the kidnapping cadre. But instead of cuffing some, the officers manhandled two each. Beyond that, a crowd had gathered. Potatoes  _and_  a show.

Zelos felt a pang of something guilting. They'd barely landed for a few hours, yet the cleanup crew followed their mess. His mess. Where were those peasant girls going to end up? And that fake signature might not have even originated from Gifford. Now that the story was out, there was a risk for other swindlers to try their luck under the safety of distraction.

While he'd run down the road to hand off the rucksack, that half-spider caught his eye. It was easy to shove the bag at Sheena and forget that he'd packed it. That day when he'd sworn not to run away flew back to his memory, if only because he'd ended up running away more than he had before. The betrayal, that was never going to amount to anything. Even if he had died trying to save Colette, there was no guarantee that they'd make Seles the Chosen. Hell, there was a good chance the Regeneration group would have succeeded better without him and the Chosen system would have been abolished outright.

Wouldn't that have been better than this slow burn? The little, everyday chores bit into him. The money, the ludicrousness of his figurehead title, the bills, the standing around in court through everyone's endless woes. The bombing, the back-and-forth to the abbey, the half-elves, the waking up in the middle of the night. That bird-headed dress. He could go on. The loneliness of it all wasn't over when Mithos's spirit left the world.

Promising not to run away? He didn't even know what running meant until now.

His eyes locked with Sheena's. She had been rummaging through the bag where the spider surely sat.

"What?" she growled.

Zelos shook his head. "Nothing at all," he replied.

Sheena sighed heavily and cinched the bag shut. "I think we're running low on supplies."

Zelos grimaced. "Hope we don't have to play hero in the next town. Hey old man, where's this thing headed?"

In the front, the old man had begun to fill the air with an off-tune whistle. Either he didn't hear, or was pretty good at pretending.

"Hey old man!" Zelos called again.

Now the man outright sang. " _Ohhhh! Destination I don't know, heigh ho! Heigh ho_!"

"Great, he doesn't know the destination."

" _Mounted on my steed I'll go, heigh-ho! Heigh-hoooo_!"

Groaning, Zelos shouted, "If that's a steed, then I'm the King of Tethe'alla!"

"Zelos," Sheena tutted.

" _HEIGH-HO! HEIGH-HO_!" the driver sang.

Zelos slumped back into the hay and covered his eyes with an arm. "Wake me up when we're in civilization."

"You're gonna be sleeping a long time," Sheena advised. "Looks like we're headed for the desert."

The driver stopped singing long enough for Zelos to doze, but it hardly sated his fatigue. In a dream, he felt like he was underwater; but more likely, he was snoring in the dry air.

When he came to, the driver was still humming that song.

As he sat up, he yawned, "Aww, come on, geezer. Knock it off with that song already!"

He didn't notice that Sheena had been catnapping on the side rail, and his complaint roused her. But she wasn't indignant.

"You're riding for free, aren'tcha? No whining!  _Destination I don't know…_ " the old man half-replied.

Zelos tried to kneel on the bumpy cart, but it proved more difficult than he imagined. He slipped and fell back into the hay. "Augh." Now, the hay added to the mess of hair, dirt, coal, and sweat. "It's in my  _mouth_ …"

"You couldn't possibly expect to be pampered," Sheena griped. "At least this way we can make it to the city before nightfall."

Zelos all but rolled his eyes. The sun wasn't getting any higher in the sky but there were no landmarks, just flat, arid land.

"Geez," Sheena began again, stretching an arm across her chest. "I think we worked enough for one day, huh?"

"Heh. I'll say…"

"I think it was nice, though."

"Nice?" Zelos echoed. Hay-filled, covered in dirt, potato peelings, et cetera.

"At the end, the siblings," Sheena clarified. She looked at the road. "You could tell how much he cared about her. Just, unconditionally; it's gotta be so nice to have siblings," Sheena sighed.

"Psh! You know who you're talking to, right?" Zelos glared with a raised eyebrow. "Not all sisters are like that. For instance, mine's a total jerk who wouldn't be that thankful no matter what you do."

"Again with Seles?" Sheena asked, a concerned look on her face.

"Hey, y'know what? From now on, why don't  _you_  just be my little sister? 'Oh big brother, I'm so glad you saved me from certain doom!'" Zelos mocked, pulling a pout.

Sheena laughed, then pushed his face back with her hand. "Wow, you're an idiot."

"Yeah, you're right. That's probably a bad idea," Zelos conceded. His smile turned dull. "I should have trusted the fact that you sniffed out danger in the first place."

Sheena's eyebrows jumped. "It was no big deal."

He could have corrected her. He could have watched the blush spark across her cheeks, and then her fist ball up to punch him again. She'd punch him anyway. "You might not be such a bad ninja after all."

Sheena crossed her arms. "Gee, thanks."

"No, but," Zelos chanced. "You really saved my ass. Who knows what would have happened if those thugs had their way?"

"It's nothing, I told you. Besides, you…" Sheena trailed off. She looked to the purpling wisps of cloud overhead.

"You owed me nothing," Zelos said, his face turning dark. No need for a cabin.

"Fine. Well," Sheena marked, "it would have come back to Mizuho anyway."

"Oh." Zelos flipped his hair out of his face with a hand. "T-MIN, yeah?"

Sheena nodded. "They're doing a lot of work these days."

There it was again. The uneasy look on her face.

"Ah, ah, yes, but it's hardly like being out in the field. Wouldn't you say this is much more of an adventure?" Zelos chirped.

"Heh. Adventure, sure," Sheena replied. She looked back at him. "Or maybe some horrible rodeo with a cowboy who can't rope, and an old man who can't sing."

"Yeehaw!" Zelos yelped. He could hardly stop the energy that poured out of him. If he could stop that sad look on her face, maybe…

Maybe, what had he hoped? That they could keep traveling forever? This musty, junky ride was no place for either of them no matter how much time they'd slept under the stars. There were only so many cities. There were only so many unknown spaces, only so much running you could do before you ran out.

From the front, the old man took his cue. " _OH! Destination, I don't know! Heigh ho! Heigh ho_!"

Zelos joined in, but with his own words. " _Straight into the shower flow! Heigh ho! Heigh ho_!"

Sheena threw her head back in an ugly guffaw. "You'd better, you're disgusting."

" _Nooot before I peek to see where Sheena's Exsphere iiiiiis_ —"

"EW! PERVERT!"

" _Double-check in caaase I missed that one time I saaaw_ —"

Sheena batted him away. "Knock it off! Oh my god, you stupid Chosen!"

" _Underneath your double-D's, HEIGH HOOO! HEIGH HOOOOOOOO—"_

"EFREET!"

But the Summon Spirit never emerged. Instead, the pair collapsed in a heap of laughter that barely stopped until the outline of Triet loomed above them.

Upon disembarking, Sheena went around to the front to thank the old man.

"Oh, no, thank  _you_ , young lady! You keep watch on that-there clown," the man said.

"I guess I have to. Well, best of luck in your travels!" Sheena bade, then hopped to the nearby inn.

Zelos leaned his elbow on the front desk as he chatted the receptionist up in the meantime.

"You know, this is my second inn today—" Zelos began, apropos of no prompt. But Sheena burst through the door, closing it quickly behind her. "Oh! There's my favorite hunny."

The woman at the desk flushed easily. "Oh, my, your second inn? You two must be on a pilgrimage," she hinted.

"Sure are!" "No way!" the pair responded with haste.

Sheena overrode, "We're  _not_ , but we get that a lot. We're just traveling."

Zelos turned to her privately. "Honestly, what does that mean, 'pilgrimage?' It sounds like they use it differently out here."

"It's sort of like… it's like eloping," Sheena whispered. "You go on a journey with your betrothed and when you come back you're married. At least that's how I understand that."

"Whaaaaat?" Zelos exclaimed, pantomiming. "Are you rejecting me?!"

"Sorry. He's just trying to get a couple of rooms for free, but he's a terrible actor," Sheena apologized, pushing Zelos aside.

The woman at the desk's face tightened. "Oh, boy have I had enough with tricksters in this town. You'll get one room for the full price and don't blame me if there's a baby!" she shouted.

Zelos hung his head and ponied up the cash. Maybe if he looked more like the Chosen today, she wouldn't have been so harsh. But he knew that using his title wasn't going to do him any good in Triet.

Later that night—and in a separate bed, per Sheena's whining—Zelos's memory collided with his dreaming subconscious. The girl from before, Mia, was hugging her brother, who'd turned into a snake. Suddenly, they were in a cave; then, Mia turned into Seles. Now Seles wasn't crying, she was laughing and scoffing. Dream-Seles grabbed the snake brother and sliced into it with a knife, cutting it in two.

Then, Dream-Seles looked up at Zelos, and the color shifted blackly. 

* * *

When Zelos jolted awake, it was mid-morning. Sheena was long-gone, probably scavenging for the food they'd run out of. That wasn't what shocked him; it was more likely the chill in the air when he threw back the covers. Wasn't this supposed to be a desert? Or maybe that lack of humidity didn't keep the heat in, some rumor of a "dry heat" Meltokio never really had.

Damn nightmares. Left him with barely any time to wash up and shave off the bearded façade before Sheena returned in a whirlwind.

"Oh, you decided to wake up today!" she said. On top of her traveling coat was a scarf Zelos didn't remember. "And your face is back, I see."

"So's  _your_  face," Zelos retorted.

"Well, I picked up a couple of things, but I couldn't find the merchant I was thinking of."

Sheena set down a small bag and began to transfer its contents to the rucksack.

Zelos leaned across and over the twin bed he'd slept in, searching for the coat he'd haplessly dropped the night before. "Man, it's cold. We  _are_  in Triet, right?"

"Yeah, and I thought Altamira was chillier than usual. I guess it can't be helped."

"Man, can't you summon something for this?" Zelos joked.

Sheena shot him a look. "I don't think you'd like it if Efreet came around. Besides, I can't control the weather. Maybe the Summon Spirits can, but I don't imagine they've gotten grudgey all of a sudden. Then again…" She scanned him from head to toe. "It's not that they like you."

"What?" Zelos flailed. "Aw, come on, I don't bother them."

Sheena's shoulders drooped. "You hit on Celsius! And every time you do something stupid—"

"Which is  _never_."

"—or  _perverted_ —"

"… I got nothin'," Zelos admitted, smiling teeth-widely.

"—I have to call on them for their powers. Y'know, that license expired when the new tree was planted and they don't like making special trips," Sheena griped. She placed the shopping bag inside the rucksack and sealed the whole thing up.

"Wait. You mean your pact is no longer…?" Zelos trailed.

Sheena slung the now-weighty sack onto her shoulder. "It's… it's complicated. I can still use their powers now, but it's limited, y'know?"

"Huh. Yeah, kinda." Zelos's hand reflexed to his chest, over the Exsphere that didn't seem to want to go on. He thought of Seles and her snake-slaying apparition.

"Anyway," Sheena blurted.

When Zelos glanced over to her, he noticed she'd turned her face away. "Anyway."

In the end, it couldn't have been any other way. Everyone loses something. Zelos and the suicidal weight of his title, which was good; Seles and the hope for a better Exsphere, which was bad. And this, which he hadn't realized, was Sheena losing something she'd known for most of her life. Longer than she'd known Zelos.

If it weren't for the Summon Spirits—and Zelos didn't want to give them this credit—they might not have met. Sheena might have stayed in Mizuho, grown up an obedient girl who caused no trouble, never traveled. But she wouldn't have acquired that courageous streak, the one that simultaneously took her to on hopeless solo missions and gave her the gall to wave off her klutziness through a blush. Even if she trained in the Igaguri style, she wouldn't have had anyone to call her out when things got ridiculous. And that was just unacceptable.

A grin formed on the side of Zelos's mouth as he watched her secretly compose herself.

"W-well! We should go do something. Triet's a big place for one day," Sheena continued. Without acknowledging him, she beelined to the door.

"That's right," Zelos echoed. "So many hunnies, so little time."

Now, at least, she whipped a seasoned glare at him. "You stupid Chosen. Well, joke's on you when you see what's going on outside!"

She fled quickly, and her scarf billowed behind her not unlike the ends of her obi. Curious and a little concerned, Zelos hurried through the lobby, making sure to give the rude woman at the desk a slick eyebrow raise on the way.

Before spotting Sheena (arms crossed to the effect of I-Told-You-So), Zelos noticed a line of middle-aged men by the stables. No military regalia designated them as an army, but nor did they appear to be a meeting of guilds. One thing was for certain: they were intentionally swapping accessories.

Zelos adjusted his expression. "Where are the hunnies?"

"Watch," Sheena advised.

Three of the men walked to the back of the area, near where the market was set up. Then, a gentleman in front rased his arm, and the men started racing forward. Their efforts considerable, they ended up crossing over a stone pattern on the ground one by one.

A man with a head of full, puffy hair pulled out of the group and approached Sheena. "Did you see what order they crossed?"

Zelos's suspicions remained elevated, but Sheena seemed at ease with this afro guy. "It was clearer than last time," she observed, "but it's probably tougher on everyone's knees, since it's colder out!"

"Who is this guy?" Zelos muttered aside.

"Oh! This is the Uncle Game. You didn't know?" Sheena said.

"… What the hell is an Uncle Game?"

Sheena waved her hand. "You know! During the Regeneration, and they asked Lloyd to test it out for them?"

Zelos lifted his hands to the back of his head. Lloyd, he could believe; the kid was fairly flamboyant for the standards of his country. He'd play almost any game—then get bored with it five minutes later. But this game specifically slipped Zelos's mind. Uncle Game. Lord, Lloyd could be strange and endearing.

"Huh. Not ringing any bells. There are parts of Sylvarant culture I'll never understand!"

"What's that? You said it's Stan?" the uncle with the afro asked.

Zelos faltered. "I—no?"

But afro uncle rushed back to the other uncles and shouted, "Stan! They said it was Stan."

There was some hubbub and conference, then the uncles set up again. But rather than stick around to misattribute another winner, Zelos tugged the end of Sheena's scarf.

"Big city, right?" he reminded her.

Sheena nodded. "I know just where to go!"

She led him to the market, full of stalls with quaint items. In reality, it wasn't too far off from Sybak's bazaar. The same little wooden weapons leaned against counter displays and on sturdy hooks. And in the far corner, an accessory shop boasted cheap little rings.

Shame they didn't have much room for souvenirs, Zelos thought. Really, if he'd planned this a little better, they'd be weaving a trade route for the unique knick-knacks of each city in the new world. After all, as the Chosen, he could mostly wave his hand and pay whatever amount was necessary for any grandiose item. But it was the journey of them that would have made it special.

Zelos spied a crowd at the far end with flashing lights and what appeared to be excited, if bundled, tourists; and he bounded straight for it.

"Hey, watch it!" a woman scolded as Zelos cut to the side of the crowd.

But through the here-and-there height of heads, Zelos spied the shape of a familiar friend.

Wait, people were really taking their picture next to the hole in the wall shaped like Colette?

"Did the Chosen really make that?" a curious child asked.

"No, sweetie. Legend says that an angel came down, and the purity of the Chosen's heart was so vast that her shadow left a perfect mark in the stone, and it fell down!" presumably, the mother replied.

Sheena arrived next to Zelos with piqued interest. "Colette's monument?"

"Can't really call it a monument if it was just a trip, right?" Zelos noted.

He recalled when Colette told the story. ' _I… I tripped! I couldn't help it_!' Sheena had pitfalls, but falling over was Colette's specialty from even before they'd met.

Meanwhile, Sheena nodded. "Yep, just a trip caused all of this. Who'd have thought?"

Another family—presumably on some sort of pilgrimage—posed with limbs out à la Colette. "Heh. Are we gonna do the tourist thing?" Zelos asked. He barely remembered to lower his voice.

Sheena shook her head. "Nah, it wouldn't feel right."

But suddenly, Zelos's eyes lit up. Triet wasn't all that far away from Colette's hometown. "What if we went to see the real Colette instead, eh?"

"We—we could do that! We could stop in Iselia," Sheena delighted.

"I'm surprised you didn't think of it earlier."

One of Zelos's eyebrows pushed upward. He couldn't believe they'd made it this far without her plotting to visit Lloyd. In fact, he'd been purposely trying to leave Lloyd out of this mess, almost certain that Lloyd would be dealing with terrorists of his own. Besides, Lloyd and Colette supposed to be destroying Exspheres. Zelos wondered if the four of them together wasn't a perfect invitation for assassination, kidnapping, or worse. But maybe Iselia would be empty.

"W-well," Sheena defended, "Not that I don't want to see our friends! We've just been through a lot for a couple weeks."

Zelos nodded. "Fair enough."

"Say, before we go, there's one more thing I wanted to do in Triet…"

The crowd filled her silence dully.

"… Okay?"

Then, a blush rose aggressively in Sheena's cheeks. "You don't have to go with me."

"Why wouldn't I? Not like I have much else to do," Zelos countered, staring vaguely in the direction of the uncle clan.

"You'll… you'll think it's stupid."

"What? You think  _I'm_ stupid. I don't think it'll make a difference."

Sheena hesitated. "There's… a fortune teller…"

Zelos smirked, but said nothing.

"I know it's silly. Don't make fun of me!" She balled her fists.

"I'm not," Zelos said. "If you wanna go, let's do it! It's not like we're coming back any time soon."

"You really wanna go?" Sheena tested.

"Yep," Zelos insisted. Especially since she was being so defensive, Zelos knew there was something deeper in the meaning of this for Sheena. Hell, she put her life on hold to be on this journey. A superstitious ritual was more than fair exchange.

"Just—... come on."

Sheena, resolved, made her way across the crowd. When Zelos followed the trails of her scarf, they passed what used to be an oasis, but now appeared shriveled. What used to be palm leaves withered to crispy slivers. That could only mean that this chilled air wasn't an overnight thing. Maybe he'd ask the fortune teller. After all, weren't they supposed to tell you the next step?

For as large a crowd as had gathered around Colette's accidental demolition, not a soul lingered around the dusty tent of the fortune teller. Could've been the general scent of a ripoff or the rumors from the Church about the unrealistic expectations a fortune teller gives, but Zelos would put his money on the weirdness of the Uncle Game blocking the path.

"Okay, I'm gonna go in. You can wait out here," Sheena blurted of a sudden, shoving the rucksack at Zelos.

"I'm not allowed to hear what's in your future?" Zelos whined lightly.

Sheena turned the glare on him. "If you go in there too, the lady's going to think the same thing as the one at the inn, and the fortune won't be accurate," she barked.

Wind swept across the plain, and Zelos crossed his arms. "At least give me the scarf if you're gonna make me wait out here."

After a beat, Sheena shrugged off the scarf and tossed it his direction. "I'll be quick."

Zelos sighed heavily. Sheena entered through the tent flap and he was left out in the cold. As usual. He spun the scarf around his neck.

His eyes drifted to the sky, which was no longer sunny and clear but spotted with menacing gray clouds. Not rain clouds, of course. The chill was too sharp. It smelled just like charged winter. While Sheena's scarf wasn't enough to remedy the deep-bone cold, he was still grateful for the remnant of her heat on his neck. She must've bought it earlier that morning, but it already smelled like her. Just a faint, warm, flowery kind of scent. How did she manage that, he wondered, if they'd been romping in dirt and hay? It wasn't like she was the girliest of girls.

A pang of fear hit his gut. What could she be asking the fortune teller about? She had her life set after this journey was over. She was chief and all. No variables, there. She didn't need to know anything, yet she came here eagerly.

He should been the one nagging her to come here. Something was going to change for him, but he wasn't sure what, and he dreaded it silently.

Not too much after Zelos had indulged his thoughts, Sheena emerged, flustered and silent. She held out her hand for the scarf, which Zelos obliged, although at the loss of olfactory desires.

"Y'know, I think I'll give it a shot," he remarked.

"Good luck. She didn't help me at all," Sheena replied. "Give me the bag already."

Zelos handed it over.

Behind the heavy tent flap, the fortune teller poised to speak. "Let me guess. She wants her future to change?"

But it caught Zelos off guard that the fortune teller wasn't an old woman. Instead, it was a girl; a child, really, looking about six years old.

"Er—are you really an oracle?" Zelos stammered.

The girl rolled her eyes. "I should not be surprised by your candor. I know who you are." Her glare sent a muffled chill. "But you need not worry. I also know what brought you here."

The fortune teller gestured to an old chair across from her spot.

With caution, Zelos sat on the worn velvet cushion. "You're well-spoken for a kid. The only kids I ever knew were brats."

"They were not truly brats. They were simply working out their selfishness, not unlike the woman you brought here."

How odd that this girlish voice rang like a bell in this dull space; enchanting that her eyes told the story of many more years than her face.

"Eh, she probably did want a refund," Zelos mused.

"She won't regret it later. Anyway, we are here to discover what lies ahead for you. Allow me."

Suddenly, the crystal ball on the table glowed blue. The tiny fortune teller waved plump hands above it, reading the color in silence.

"So..." Zelos filled the air.

"Shh. It shall be revealed."

And like that, Zelos was no longer sitting in a chair, but standing in a field. The field was familiar. The face in front of him was not the fortune teller's.

Seles…

_She slapped him hard._

" _Fight me."_

_After catching the blow, he stared her straight in the eye. "I'm not going to fight you."_

" _I can't let this go by without a fight, Zelos."_

" _Well, that's not exactly your decision, Seles."_

_The light of the midday sun glared down on the field at the Abbey. A week after the Regeneration had ended, it didn't take very long for things to dissolve between them._

_Seles raised her hand. "Oh, it isn't? Why don't you watch what I can do without that Cruxis Crystal."_

_A white circle of light blew out from beneath her feet as she chanted over the shining sound it made. But Zelos didn't budge. Didn't raise his hand to his sword, even. He just squared off with a gaze both hurt and dominating._

" _MINI METEOR!" Seles exclaimed. Razor-sharp particles rained down on Zelos, who flinched._

_When the whizzing stopped, he asked her, "Are you satisfied? Look at me, Seles. Are you?"_

" _You can't say you're going to be here for me, then leave and make me stay here," she shouted. "You can't go around saying how weak I am! My magic is just as powerful as yours. Why do you still hide me?!"_

" _Listen to me. It's not like that," Zelos reasoned._

" _It is! It's like that for me! You take away everything!"_

" _It hurts me too," he confessed. "It hurts me that you can't live in the open. It hurts me that you're always in pain. Don't you think I'd rather have you happy, healthy, and in the city than on an island in the middle of nowhere?"_

_Seles scowled. "Easy for you to say, since all you do is blow me off for your high-class parties and low-class company. Nobody can tame the infamous Chosen! It'd be so difficult for me to fit in, wouldn't it? Horrible for me to be in Meltokio!"_

" _Meltokio, huh," Zelos managed. "But you can't live there. At least not until the prejudice stops. I've seen the worst of it, and I can't let you into that. I'm telling you because I love you and care about you, Sis. Not yet."_

_A single tear ran down Seles's cheek. "You don't care about me as much as you care about yourself. It's all because of you that I'm going to lose the Exsphere in the first place."_

_Zelos's heart swelled. He walked to her with arms outstretched. "Come here. I'm going to put that off as long as I can."_

" _No. I'm going inside. And you should take care of that blood."_

_Upon raising his hand to his face, he noticed that the meteor shower spell had created more than a few gashes all over his arms. But Seles had already hurried back to the church's door and slammed it._

"This."

The fortune teller's voice brought back reality. Zelos's nerves were sending sparks through his chest.

"This is what your future holds," she clarified.

"That can't be," Zelos said. "That already happened."

"Recall that I know who you are. Chosen One, the past repeats itself unless you break the cycle. I urge you to think of the woman in your vision."

He almost said it, but held back his sister's name. Surely there was no soul in Triet who would discover him by overhearing this detail. He was now glad for the thick tent and the vagueness of the fortune teller's words.

But the big pirate battle in Izoold, with the brother and the sister…

So that was his future. He had to take Seles in eventually, make her see how strong he could be. Cramp his style? Most likely. Seles was never good at blending in. Cramp the kingdom's style? Definitely. Being half–half-elf was never the Pope's favorite description of a person despite the status of certain progeny. Ah, the ugly noblewomen would give their usual treatment. And with Seles around, Zelos wouldn't have time to appease them all with visits.

That would leave him with no time to travel. Not as though he needed as much time as before to coordinate between nefarious groups. But there went the freedom, all over again. When would he make trips out to Sheena—to annoy her, invariably? And how would this be different from locking Seles up in an abbey?

No. It couldn't end. The journey couldn't end; he wouldn't let it. What did this six-year-old know, anyway? Zelos had left Meltokio to end the attacks. They were after him. It would protect Seles, it would protect everyone for him to be out here. Take her in. Sure, with a bombed house.

Screw this fortune. It wasn't a fortune, just as he'd imagined. He was only here for Sheena's sake.

"What the—"

Before he could pose another question to the fortune teller, he realized she'd vanished. In her place was a circular tin containing gald. He supposed now he was glad for potato peeling as payment for yesterday's voyage. And he'd have protested the price, but the magic in the crystal ball had to have been real—he wouldn't start hallucinating about a memory at a time like this.

Into the tin, he flung several coins, then strode outside where the chill of the wind caught him again. Sheena stood facing the other way, hand on her hip and eyes to the far street.

"Yep, kind of a ripoff," he announced. Sheena turned. "Or, I guess worth it to see a little kid tell me she knows everything about my life."

"What are you talking about?" Sheena asked, head tilted.

It struck him that perhaps the fortune teller was a shape-shifting being. Perhaps a Summon Spirit; perhaps a joke. But Sheena's words weren't sarcastic.

"Eh… Nothing. Nothing important, at least. Let's get going, shall we?" Zelos took a glance back at the fortune teller's tent. Surely, Sheena's fortune was similar in its eerie nature. Wouldn't be worth it to complain, nor to pry.

There was yet a long stretch of road to travel.


	6. Find Out For Certain

**6\. FIND OUT FOR CERTAIN**

He did all right in the light of the sun, but when it came time to take watch at night, Zelos couldn’t help the ferocity of adrenaline keeping him up. It was especially bad the second night, when there was no sand surrounding them to alert them of intruders and no woods for camouflage. To Sheena, it must have seemed odd that he wanted to plop down in a patch of rocks midday and nap—well, odd, or typical, depending on whether she realized the reason for his doing it.

But by the third day of trekking, they’d made it to the outskirts of Iselia. With the town in the distance, the pair picked up their pace.

“Does it smell… weird here to you?” Sheena prompted. When she saw the suspicion on Zelos’s face, she clarified, “Like wet dog, or something?”

Zelos carefully sniffed the air. “No, can’t be. That doesn’t smell like a dog at all. Actually, it kinda smells like Noishe…”

The two locked eyes. “Noishe!”

“Lloyd’s gotta be close by!” Sheena said excitedly.

“Let’s get a move on, then!”

It didn’t take long for the smell to intensify; then, a familiar whine. Not far ahead, a figure in red stood up. Well, gee, wasn’t it lucky for them that Lloyd was standing at the gates instead of in the middle of the forest.

“Lloooooyd!” Sheena called, starting to jog.

“Yo, Lloyd!” Zelos echoed.

A confused Lloyd dropped the firewood he’d collected. “Wha…? Sheena? Zelos? What are you guys doing here?”

When Sheena reached him, she side-stepped and swung one arm around the stunned swordsman. But the moment didn’t hold, and Zelos ran into an embrace that squished them all together.

“My bud!” Zelos squawked.

“Egh—Zelos—can’t breathe!” Lloyd coughed.

Sheena wedged herself out of the huddle and pushed Zelos’s arm. “It’s so good to see you!” she directed at the now-freed Lloyd. “You look—good!” The words stammered out before she could perfect them. And there were her eyes, now shining in the shade of her face.

“Heh. Well, I’m nothing if I don’t have my health, right?” Lloyd joked. He quickly bent over to collect the dropped firewood.

Zelos let a laugh resound just a little too long. “Yeah, at least that.”

“S-so, what are you doing here? Is your journey to find the Exspheres over?” Sheena asked quickly.

In the tense moment before Lloyd answered, Zelos looked at the sky and dragged his fingers through his hair. She had to ask that, eh? When, standing right in front of Lloyd, were two people still carrying Exspheres in key crests. She _had_ to have known that Lloyd wouldn’t stop until he had them all.

Of course, Lloyd didn’t know that Zelos’s Exsphere wasn’t the Cruxis Crystal. Perhaps there was relief in the sight that Lloyd hadn’t relinquished his own Exsphere, which still glimmered on his hand over the glove. Yeah, right, like Lloyd would become that sort of hypocrite. Jeez, how that fortune teller had messed with his head.

“Nah, we just decided to take a break for a little,” Lloyd replied, transparent as ever. “Well, mostly because I got careless and one of my legs started hurting.”

“Oh… Are you okay?” Sheena jumped.

“Yeah! My leg’s all right, still kinda recovering, though…”

Zelos watched as a bent-over man approached the town gate. He was wheeling a barrow overflowing with produce.

“Hey, Lloyd! Are you gonna take some carrots today?” the man asked.

Lloyd turned to him helplessly, both arms stuffed with firewood. “I think I’ll pick them up tomorrow. Thanks, though!”

Zelos adjusted the straps on the rucksack. Even if he could have offered to carry those carrots, this thing was heavy enough. He wondered why Sheena hadn’t stepped in yet.

“Looks like the damage from the Desians has been cleaned up, eh,” Zelos observed, “if you’re all back to farming.”

“Yeah!” Lloyd shouted. “We’ve got new fields, new houses, people moving in. It’s nice!”

Lloyd began to walk through and past the village, giving the briefest tour. Zelos made sure to remember the little details—the lattice, the greens sprawling anew, windows without dust in the corners. The place was just as precocious as the kids that grew up in it. But he recalled that by now, Lloyd would have turned eighteen. Not so much a kid anymore.

Well, Iselia _was_ nice, anyway. Shame they couldn’t really return to it since they’d been spotted by the carrot guy; just an extra precaution, in case that guy weren’t really selling carrots so much as information to unfavorable parties. Like anywhere else they would only be able to stay at Lloyd’s place overnight. Still, he was looking forward to seeing Colette.

He opened his mouth to ask, but at that moment, Lloyd decided to turn and face Zelos and Sheena, who trotted behind.

“Y’know, you guys have been awfully quiet. You’re traveling just the two of you, eh?” Lloyd prodded, a grin spreading on his boyish face.

“Hm?” Sheena tilted her head.

“Having some time alone, _ehhh_?”

Zelos’s eyes turned to ice. It would have been funny if it were him making fun of Lloyd and Colette, who were notoriously always together. And somewhat officially “together,” too. But somehow, Lloyd making fun of Zelos being with Sheena and “traveling”—most likely in the Sylvarant sense of the word—well, it was embarrassing. Mostly because Lloyd didn’t see. He didn’t know. He wasn’t there in Mizuho when Zelos confessed he’d only thought of Sheena to bring along. He wasn’t there when Zelos hauled Sheena past the threshold of an old cabin while she was poisoned and weak, or when Zelos made the deal with the terrorists not to harm her because he couldn’t imagine her not living a full, happy life. Lloyd wasn’t there when the mascot head of a frog hid the blush that spread across Zelos’s face when Sheena stepped out of the resort looking stunning in her costume.

It was some sort of joke. So he played along.

“Her?” Zelos scoffed, and at the same time, Sheena pointed her thumb and said, “Him?”

Lloyd attempted to waggle his eyebrows but it came off as a botched seizure.

“Not a chance!”—Sheena, and Zelos simultaneously, “Not even.”

Zelos let his eyes linger on Sheena, who looked at Lloyd with confidence. See, it was a funny joke. She laughed like it was funny. All those times before. When she got upset and made them search for the errant signature because it would smear his reputation. Something ached.

Lloyd bumbled over his intrusion. “Oh, uh… Heh…”

They walked in silence for a handful of moments.

“Well, speaking of awkward, where’s my darling angel Colette?” Zelos boomed above the air.

“Colette? Oh, she’s out of town,” Lloyd answered casually.

“—She’s not here?” Zelos’s face fell. How could she not be here? Great, now there was no buffer between the joke and the reality.

“Yeah, she’s taken up volunteering in the villages around here, teaching kids and such. Y’know, ‘cause the Professor hasn’t returned.”

“Oh! Wow, that’s…” Sheena began, but trailed off. It wasn’t as though the Sages let anyone know what they were up to. They were fairly private people to the point that the newspapers couldn’t seem to find them.

“Ah. I get it now,” Zelos examined, turning the joke on Lloyd to forget his disdain. “So that’s why you were looking so wistful with Noishe at the village gate, eh?”

“What? I—no, you—…” Lloyd laughed. He faced forward with his head up, but even the sunset’s rosy glow couldn’t hide Lloyd’s flush. “We’re almost here, anyway. Actually, there’s the bridge. My dad’s gone for a few days for a project, so it’s all ours. Make yourselves at home!”

Lloyd went on ahead and dumped the firewood at the side of the house, then detoured briefly to his mother’s grave.

After crossing the bridge, Zelos glanced sidelong at Sheena, who had been terse.

“I bet you’re feeling that ember starting up again, aren’t you?” he asked.

“Wh…?”

“Y’know. _You_ , and _Lloyd_ …”

Sheena shoved Zelos—almost into the creek. Definitely blushing this time, and definitely mad at him. “Wow, you’re an idiot.”

“Ow! Geez! But that’s not an answer,” Zelos muttered.

“Ugh! I’m going inside,” Sheena stormed, following Lloyd, now, into the house.

Zelos let out a loud, ringing laugh before stepping into the house himself.

The door opened to reveal the same warm home they’d visited a few times back in the day. Except now, swords on plaques lined the walls and there was a humongous throw rug of a bear in the middle of the living room. “Wow, Lloyd, what’s the deal with this bear?”

“I know, right? Pretty cool!” Lloyd said. He set down his swords and picked up a large dish.

“Um… but, is it real?” Zelos asked, creeping closer to the thing and kneeling to inspect it.

“The world will never know!”

Lloyd added some sort of feed meat to the dish and set it outside for Noishe.

“’Cause I mean, if you killed it yourself, that’s cool. But if you just bought it because you thought it looked cool…”

Meanwhile, Sheena sat on a far couch and stretched a little.

“Zelos, some things are better left off as secrets!”

“I don’t know. Now you’ve got me intrigued. Just what the heck did you get up to while you were out in the world with Colette, hm?”

Lloyd kicked off his shoes, which prompted Sheena to do the same from across the room. And Zelos finally set down the rucksack, taking off the traveling cloak as well.

“There were lots of monsters still out,” Lloyd explained. “But then, there were also lots of vendors. You’ll never know!”

“Come onnnnnn,” Zelos whined. “Why would you need a bear rug?”

“Maybe my dad got it, you don’t know!”

“Which dad, huh? ‘Cause if one of them picked that out, he’s turned out to be even more interesting than I imagined, and if it was the other, I wouldn’t be surprised…”

Sheena sighed heavily, staring down the two. Lloyd, noticing, turned to her.

“What’s up?” Lloyd asked. Ah, with that kind smile on his face.

“Well, I guess I’m a little tired. Mind if I take a bath?” Sheena asked.

Oh, yeah. Zelos supposed she hadn’t properly bathed since Triet. He’d kept up with washing every time they came across water—no shame, and vanity, he supposed—but she was always so fussy about having a real bathroom for that. He could hardly blame her. Yeah, he was such a pervert, there was no way he could _possibly_ respect her privacy by looking the other way.

“No problem! Let me go get you a towel,” Lloyd offered.

There was a moment when Zelos almost twitched, when Lloyd and Sheena both went upstairs and the sound of water being drawn echoed through the house. But when Lloyd came back down, ease crept back in. It wasn’t like with Regal, where he felt the need to be formal and collected. It was Lloyd’s house, and so he took full advantage of the comfy couches while Sheena was gone.

Lloyd and Zelos shot the breeze, mostly, while they waited. Then, Lloyd rummaged in a cabinet and brandished a bottle of wine and a bottle of some country whiskey.

“What do you think? We’ll make it a party?” he asked.

“I mean, why the heck not!”

* * *

Laughter burst through the very seams of the house. Lloyd, Sheena, and Zelos sat sloppily on the floor, drinks in hand.

“Oh! Oh, let’s sing it again!” Zelos cried. He adopted the persona of the hay cart driver, scowl and all. “OHHHHH!”

“ _DESTINATION, I DON’T KNOW, HEIGH HO, HEIGH HOOOO_!” the three began, “ _MOUNTED ON MY STEED I’LL GO! HEIGH HOOOOO! HEIGH HOOOOOOOO! WHEN THE DAY IS OVER, IT WILL BE TO-MOOOORROW! IT’LL HAPPEN, I WILL GO, IF THE WHOLE WORLD SHOULD END! SENDING ME STRAIGHT BACK TO MY HOOOOOME!_ ”

Sheena raised her glass defiantly. “Kampai, guys!”

“Kampai!” Lloyd and Zelos chimed.

The whiskey was gone, and the wine was well on its way. At some point between shots, Sheena managed to whip up a decent chicken dish, and the three were gorged on food and drink. Zelos, moreso, the drink.

“I got an idea. I got an idea,” he insisted.

“What’s your idea, Zelos?” Sheena obliged, altogether less drunk.

Zelos leaned over toward Lloyd with leery eyes. “You ever played the game never-have-I-ever?”

“Whassat?” Lloyd asked.

“It’s s’posed to be a drinking game, but I think we’re past that. And you just say stuff, y’know,” Zelos tried to explain.

Sheena jumped in. “You, um, you say things you think other people have done but you haven’t.”

“I’ll try anything once!” Lloyd shouted.

“Okay-okay-okay. Me first. Put up your hands,” Zelos instructed, pawing at Lloyd, then Sheena.

“Why’s that?”

“’Cause if you’ve done it, you put a finger down, and then when you have no fingers, you lose,” Sheena said.

“Okay. Here. Never have I ever been born in Sylvarant,” Zelos began. He laughed. “That’s too easy.”

Begrudgingly, Lloyd put down a finger. “That’s not fair! I can’t control that!”

“Pshh, never have I ever given a damn about that. Come on, it’s your turn, Bud!”

Lloyd gave a calculating look. “All right… never have I ever studied at an academy!”

Sheena and Zelos shared a glance, then put down a finger each.

“Talk about unfair! All right, fine. Never have I ever used a sword in battle!” Sheena gloated, victorious over the two boys.

One more down, each. “This is kid stuff. I just said that first one as an example, y’know,” Zelos mumbled. “Never have I ever… kissed someone of the same gender!” He winked across to Sheena.

A moment of silence passed before Lloyd ruptured out with, “WHAAAAT! What kind of a question is that?!”

“… Why, Lloyd, do you have some sort of a secret—!” Sheena burst out laughing.

Lloyd turned red; or was it from the booze? “It doesn’t count if you were a kid, right?!” he protested. “I—I thought he was a girl because of his hair…”

“I’m not a benevolent god,” Zelos said. “Totally counts.”

“Bah! Damn you!” Lloyd scowled, putting down a finger.

Sheena smirked over another sip of wine.

“Fine, then. Never have I ever split town in the middle of the night to sleep with someone!” Lloyd countered.

But that was his secret weapon. “Ahh hah, you can’t get that one out of me,” Zelos proclaimed.

“What are you talking about? You said it yourself in the sewers,” Sheena argued. She pointed a finger at him, then poked at his arm.

“Oh. Did I say that? Because what I _thought_ I said was, I used to sneak back into the city at night. I didn’t say where I was going!”

“But you implied it!”

“Yeah, Zelos, what else would you be doing?”

Zelos’s face shaded grimly. “What do you _think_ I was doing?”

Lloyd squared his eyes and squinted. But Sheena quickly looked away.

“Ahh, hah hah, yeah, I was busy, but not with fun. And I never left for the sole purpose of sleeping with someone, so,” Zelos explained, “even if that happened, it’s not how it started. Not puttin’ my finger down.”

“You pig,” Sheena groaned.

“Didn’t say it happened,” Zelos corrected her. He wasn’t sure why his mouth was particularly insistent upon playing by the rules, but hopefully nobody would pick up on it.

“Speaking of pig, I’m getting hungry again. I’m gonna look for the bacon,” Lloyd said. He rose and walked to the kitchen.

Sheena glared at Zelos before hoisting herself up. “You know, you don’t have to have some moral high-ground, or whatever.”

“What? I’m… no, that’s not what I meant. It’s just a game about truth,” Zelos hummed.

Sheena paused, then slumped into a half-smile. “Just because I was winning, anyway.”

Zelos got lost in the space between when Lloyd got up for bacon and when Sheena came back with a plate full, and handed Zelos a glass of water.

“Zelos, have some water,” Lloyd called.

“Nope... nope, can't have any more... so full... soooo...”

Zelos flopped down on the bear rug with the grace of—well, Colette and a wall. The head of the bear was stunningly plush, although the effect may have been augmented with inebriation. But at least it was comfortable for now, and the couch was free. There would be no excuses for Sheena to sleep elsewhere, eh?

He rolled to his left side and snuggled his face into the animal. “Now it'ssss just you and me, señor bear. Señor oso. Oso sleepyyyy...” he mumbled to himself. The pull of the drink was too strong to overcome.

For a while, Lloyd and Sheena watched Zelos, chatting quietly, making sure he was still breathing. There was no real danger, of course. The Exsphere was already working through the drink in their systems. In fact, Sheena wasn’t feeling dizzy at all, which marked the first time during the journey that she was less drunk than Zelos. At least when he was sleeping, he wasn’t mouthing off.

She sighed. Lloyd arranged himself on the couch with a blanket over his shoulders, sliding sideways into a half-nap. But there were dirty dishes and cups lying around, so she didn’t feel comfortable curling up on the other end of the couch.

In the kitchen, Sheena quickened her hands as they washed various cups and dishes. She craned her neck half-heartedly to make sure Zelos hadn't aspirated or whatever, then resumed washing at full, haphazard speed.

Out of the silence, Lloyd spoke, revealing that he hadn’t been sleeping for real. “I don't think I've ever seen Zelos this drunk. I mean, I've seen him drunk, just not...” He gestured and gave an unsure grin. Then he hauled himself off the couch and snuck to the kitchen.

“You can take the man out of Meltokio, but you can't take Meltokio out of the man,” Sheena quipped, grinning back. “You'll have to excuse him.”

“Wow, covering for Zelos? Never thought I'd see the day. Are you _sure_ this trip isn't... _you know_?” Lloyd waggled his eyebrows ineptly.

Sheena didn't sigh, didn't chortle out a reply. Did the water get hotter all of a sudden? It felt like her hands were burning. Lloyd looking at her that way. Saying things about Zelos, sure, but that half-grin.

Say something and sound like you're catching your foot in the door, or say something else and betray the real reason you're here? It was a tightrope.

But before Sheena could get out her words, Lloyd had risen and began to walk toward her disarmingly. “Sorry I've made you cook and do the dishes tonight. I really should have gotten up sooner,” he admitted.

“No worries. Actually, I… I don’t mind this sort of thing. And I’m done, anyhow,” she rushed, wiping her hands on the little apron tied around her waist. “See? All good. But actually… this apron, you should have Colette mend it. It’s got this rip on one side.”

Lloyd gave a chortle.

On the floor, Zelos rolled over and pulled the bear rug over himself. That purgatory between sleeping and waking left him haunted with Sheena and Lloyd’s laughing voices.

* * *

“Rise and shine!”

Zelos’s eyelids flew up as he felt the warmth thrown off of him.

“Gah!”

“Time to get up now!” Lloyd stood over him, glass of water in one hand and the blanket in the other. Wait... blanket? Where was the bear rug?

Zelos sat up, now fully aware of his placement on the couch. Also, the pounding of his head. Ugh, why had he fallen asleep before the Exsphere processed that alcohol? 

“Why am I here?” he asked drowsily.

“I moved you to the couch. You were getting handsy with the bear. Oh, and here’s the water you didn’t drink,” Lloyd said.

Zelos took the tepid water with a hearty swig then scoured his surroundings. Sunlight spilled nearly perpendicular into the room. There was the bear, propped up against the wall. The rucksack was gone or moved; Sheena’s shoes were gone as well. In fact, there didn’t seem to be any sign of her. Hastily, Zelos asked, “Where’s Sheena?”

“She’s running an errand, actually. Been up for hours.”

“Huh… I thought she didn’t get up that early anymore,” Zelos mused.

Lloyd looked confused. “I thought she was always up before everyone else… Huh.”

But Lloyd hadn’t been there…

Ugh. His head. Zelos drank a little more, his stomach swollen and angry.

“Hey, finish that up soon, ‘cause we’ve got some work to do today!” Lloyd chirped.

“Wha—? Work?”

“Yeah! Remember, last night? You and Sheena said you’d do some odd jobs for me to repay me for housing you crazy kids.”

“… I don’t remember that part,” Zelos admitted.

“Well, don’t think about it too much, or you’ll hurt yourself! C’mon, we’ve gotta go to work!”

As it turned out, Lloyd’s idea of an odd job was working on the farm of that produce peddler from the day before. And since Zelos didn’t have much of a choice, he borrowed a pair of undersized, dirt-encrusted boots, heading out to the fields with Lloyd. Armed with a shovel and a brown-bagged, halfhearted sandwich, Zelos was sent to the animal stalls.

“What do you owe this guy, anyway?” Zelos asked, midday.

Lloyd, hauling a seed bag over his shoulder, yelled back, “Nothing! He just needed my help!”

Zelos smirked. Lloyd could be such a goody two-shoes. But why couldn’t those two shoes be polished and dancing upon a maple wood floor? Or even kicked up across a footstool?

The initial whining didn’t last forever. As the sun glared down and gave some warmth to the autumn air, Zelos noticed he was sweating. Replacing the mud in the pigpen proved to be nearly back-breaking. Not like he’d even grown up with animals—he’d had something of an allergy, and Sebastian always wanted the house in tip-top shape. Pets wouldn’t do. He thought of the bacon he didn’t have the day before.

Then, he thought of the brother–sister duo from Izoold. That brother had gotten stronger by way of working in those fields. If it were good enough for him, it would be good enough for Zelos. Instead of dreading the rest of his day, Zelos threw himself into it with new vigor. And if nothing else, it’d make a good story for Seles, right?

See? He could do this. Maybe not forever, but in the quiet countryside, this day revived his spirit and his lingering hangover. Surely, the sheltered life of a Chosen led to more money, but what about spirit? He felt like he was missing something. Shame they had to leave so soon; there was a nobility hard physical labor. Lloyd was doing this all for someone in his town just because he could, and with an injured leg. When was the last time Zelos did something for a person like that without compensation? Well, Sheena aside. She didn’t count.

When the sun fell lower in the sky, the nerves hit him again. Luckily, Lloyd thought that heading back sounded like a good idea, and Zelos was able to convince him to go back. Except, Zelos could go ahead—Lloyd had to make some arrangements with the farm’s owner, and he’d be there soon.

Zelos thought of Sheena and wondered what type of errand she’d have run for Lloyd so early in the morning; hoped she’d be back by now. Maybe she’d come down the stairs and see him covered in the sweat of a hard day’s labor. Maybe her jaw would be just a little bit agape, and she’d make a sly grin and say, “Wow, you actually worked hard in the field?”

Ugh. Because _that’s_ what would impress someone from Mizuho. He put his hand to his head admonishingly. Was he really doing it to see the look on her face? Or did he just want to feel the high, clear air in his lungs, and something like normalcy in this quiescent place?

He stomped the budding hope. She’d say, “You think one day makes up for a lifetime of laziness?” and punch him for what he’d say afterward, and then they’d get on their way toward the coast. It was just a trip for runaways, after all.

* * *

A comforting, perfected smell met Zelos as he opened the door to the small house.  As soon as he crossed through and saw her standing in the kitchen with her back to him, he knew something was up. That apron. Carefree little grin. The way she didn't even acknowledge that he'd walked in the door alone, covered in muck and dust. The stove was on and there were hefty piles of vegetables lying around for what looked like a soup way more garnished and nourishing than the one she'd given him before this whole mess started; the one in the meeting room with Orochi just sitting there, waiting for him to screw it up. He noticed a small wealth of carrots.

Carrots…

Sheena hummed a little song as she stirred, completely unaware of the outside world. Completely completing the image of a cozy house in the middle of nowhere with all the time in the world. Zelos had to make sure it was real. He coughed just loudly enough for it to rouse her.

“Ah—! Don’t startle me like that,” Sheena gasped, turning to see her visitor. “Lloyd told me you were going to work the fields today. I didn’t think you’d actually do it. I’ll bet the one doing most of the work was him…!”

Though she smiled and returned to her work (now adding vegetables, now red satay), her words still didn’t sound right. He could have lived a thousand years in a scenario like this if she hadn’t opened her mouth. “Lloyd” this and “Lloyd” that. It kept him on his toes to have a word give him such a visceral reminder that he didn’t belong here.

Just what did she think this was, anyway?! Some hidden pocket of the world where nothing bad could happen?

So when she continued to ignore him as he took replaced the borrowed shoes, he said, “Dinner, eh?” perhaps a little more gruffly than he should have. It was more of a reflex than anything to see the woman with whom he'd been sharing meals, rooms, beds, _journeys_ just standing there and putting effort into something that was just so obviously not meant for him.

No response. She kept putting vegetables into the stew. Nothing like a passive-aggressive afternoon.

“'S that dinner you're making?” Zelos asked again, a little more loudly.

Sheena whipped her head around but wouldn’t look him in the eye. “Yeah. You got a problem or something?”

“… Not at all,” he began, “Oh, except, how long were you planning on staying here exactly?” More anger-edged silence. “You know, those terrorists a while back… we don’t know when they could resurface. We agreed we wouldn’t stay anywhere for more than one night, remember?”

Sheena moved to extinguish the fire and wiped her hands on a cloth, still unspeaking.

“Okay, I know I was joking around yesterday, but this is really important. Look, can’t you just give it up already?”

“Give _what_ up, Zelos?” Sheena barked. Finally, she turned to him and glared straight into his eyes. In that moment, it became perfectly clear: this would be a woman scorned. But did _she_ know what she was doing to him? Playing coy, playing dumb, but then following him around the world without question, and creating happy little moments. Actually caring for his well-being. It all changed when she stepped over the Irving threshold. She played the housewife role, but not for him. No, in her eyes, he was invisible here. He stood knee-deep in manure all day, for god's sake, and all she could think of was to call him lazy?

“… As if you have to ask,” he replied. As if you have to pretend you’re not head-over-heels in love with someone else. He saw that glimmer of hope in her eye the whole night yesterday; he knew what Lloyd was.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sheena said sharply.

Zelos sighed, exhausted with her little games. “Look, I want a straight answer before I go clean up. If you want to… stay here instead of coming with me, you should be clear about it. It’s your choice. Just… if you stay, I think you know what you’d be getting into, and believe me when I say, the only one who’s gonna end up hurt will be you. You’ve gotta pick your battles, as they say.” 

He was surprised that he hadn’t been run through with a kitchen knife for the blunt impudence of his comment. It was unlike Sheena to be so quiet. Even if it was something that needed to be said, Zelos’s provocation wasn’t getting any reaction other than tense silence from across the room.

He continued, “Oh, so this _isn’t_ about matters of the heart, then. Ah, yeah, never mind I said any of that. I’ll bet you have plenty of suitors asking for your hand, eh? Am I right? Well, even if you don’t, I could always go and find you one, since you’re not attached to anyone or anything. Just say the word an—”

All the shrieking he had ever heard in his life, from the cries of his half-sister as a child to the sobs of a grown man at the wrong end of a Cruxis blade, could not prepare him for Sheena’s response. “That is ENOUGH!” she shouted. “How—How _dare_ you insinuate that _anyone,_ much less that _I_ could be as careless and shallow as you!”

“… What was that, now?” Stunned, he felt more menacing than ever.

“If this girl isn’t fun anymore, you’ll go to that one. If not that one, then another! They’re all expendable to the Great Zelos Wilder. Maybe someone like you just can’t understand, you know, actually _liking_ someone enough to want to be with them for more than a day—“

“How can you say that?” Zelos said, anger focusing to the tips of his teeth. He meant to scare her off with his teasing about Lloyd, but she’d taken it way beyond that. Sure, he may seem shallow on the outside and he may flirt with any given woman. But this trip was something sacred. It was a little piece of himself that he could share with the only other soul adventurous enough; a glimpse into the man behind the mask. Was this whole trip, this whole month and a half just a joke to her? “You were the one…—! As if this all—!”

“It only hurts because it’s true, anyway!” Sheena retorted.

“Stop joking around about this!”

“You, too!”

Zelos clenched his fists so hard that his nails left deep purple indentations in his palms. He had to fight the urge to punch a hole in the wall, because that wouldn’t get his point across—it would just give them another reason to stay for another day to fix it, and then Zelos would truly look like a monster.

He counted, one-one-thousand, two-one-thousand, three-one-thousand, four-one-thousand…

“… If we stay here any longer, we’ll be sitting ducks,” he began. He could feel his vocal tracts tightening. “Something could happen to this village and its people at any time, and we wouldn’t even see it coming.”

Without missing a beat, Sheena said, “The one being targeted is _you_ , isn’t it?” _Not me_. And _Go, if you think you're so important_.

"You know what? Do what you want. I won't keep you."

Zelos's eyes stung and he stormed out, nearly busting the rickety screen door off its hinges. If he couldn't make change with words, he could at least slam that fucker shut. He slung the open rucksack over his shoulder and just motored ahead. He passed Lloyd, who was, for whatever reason, looking confused, or guilty? Or like a straw man out in the field; he didn't care. He ran across the little wooden bridge and didn't stop until his lungs were too much in pain to fill up, and then he sat on the side of the road with his head in his hands, shaking.

He thought of the terrorists who had found them despite their lack of plans or announcement of their location. If someone were to have followed him here, they'd be here right now, wouldn't they? Bring them on. Bring them all on. He can take out eight. He can take out eight hundred, he's the goddamn Chosen and still an angel of Cruxis no matter where that Crystal is.

"COME AND GET ME!" he challenged the sky. "Just get this over with!"

He tried to stand, but wobbled and caught himself on his palm.

He grasped at his own skull, caught his fingers in his long hair.

_Sheena... My god, Sheena._

Dirt on his face, dirt on his hands, dirt in his joints, he started through Iselia and made for the forest beyond. It wasn't the most welcoming location for him, but damn, was it better than turning back or sleeping openly in the face of his invited death. Surely, someone at Colette’s house would have given him refuge. They knew. Being a Chosen; they knew what it was like. They knew how she'd struggled and probably saw her new struggles now. If he came to their house, this soiled child, they wouldn’t judge him for needing a place just for one day. But the terrorists, always the terrorists.

 _Come on, feet_. With that, he took a deep breath and realigned himself.

It wasn't her fault. Sure, she'd agreed to go with him on this crazy adventure, but when it came down to it, the only reason he needed it was because his life was in danger. She knew that. Maybe choosing to stay with Lloyd wasn't such a bad idea, as nobody had his head in the cross-hairs.

And, on that note...

Maybe he shouldn't have assumed that she was staying for Lloyd. It was just a coincidence that he was there alone, right? Any other day they'd have had Dirk or Colette hanging around, at least. It was a comfort to be among friends, but... Well, even if she did end up with Lloyd, was that the worst thing in the world for her? For Zelos, yes—but for her? Lloyd had that tremendous sense of responsibility, not leaving anyone's side. Yet here was Zelos, again running away from something that burned too much to touch. Sheena wouldn't _have_ to choose. She could be surrounded by friends wherever she went without a bounty on her head.

Maybe he was supposed to be alone, anyway. He was alone ever since that day in the snow. Coincidental, wasn't it, that back then he was also begging for the love of the one person who just wouldn't love him back no matter what he did. He thought back to the girl in the bird dress. Would it be so bad to pick one out of the bunch and do as he pleased while she begged for his love? At least he wouldn't get hurt.

His lungs still ached; yes, his lungs. He refused to believe that his heart could actually feel anything after the angelic transformation. Yet there it was. _Put this first_ , it said. _Take the high road_. A little split-in-half figurine of a spider talking to him.

He would make it all the way to the gate of Iselia before he realized he was being followed.

But it wasn't clopping feet of would-be assassins. Well—she used to be, but probably not right now. For now, she just took a couple steps forward and tried to make him look at her.

"Hey," she said, simultaneously as he greeted her, nonchalant.

"You first.”

"No," Sheena said gently, "you. Really."

He kept walking and looking for signs of life in the town's twilight until they met the first fork in the road.

"I... I'm sorry. I said too much." He finally looked at her, hoping the darkness would obscure the weariness of his face. Not like him to be anything but happy, right? _Push_ , he kept willing. _Tell her_. "But I don't think I was wrong."

"You weren't. I was wrong, and I'm sorry," Sheena said.

All the resolve he thought he had was irrelevant when he saw she was biting the inside of her lip. "It's fine. Don't worry about it."

Looking up at the fork in the road, he knew he had a question to ask her.  "So—" she had chimed in at the same time.

"Wine," she said, and swallowed. "Bought it earlier. I nabbed it on the way out. Date's on me tonight," she continued, revealing the bottle at her side. Oh, he supposed. He'd missed that when he was busy trying not to look at her.

"Not much we can do about that," he replied drearily.

"A date, Zelos," she goaded, pushing the bottle closer to him. At last, he grabbed it.

"Oh, fine. Let's drink it right here and watch the stars." He tried to read the label, but couldn't in the dim light. That's what he was going for, after all; so dark that she wouldn't see. He hoped this was the strong stuff.

"Here, the corkscrew," Sheena added. She produced it from the rucksack on his back and gave it to him. He smirked. It was so like her to leave the actual process of opening to him.

"Can't even open your own stash," he teased.

She looked him sternly in the eyes. "There are a lot of things I do on my own. I thought I'd give you the honor."

He didn't even struggle, and popped the cork out easily. "Full bottle..." He paused before taking a sip. " _Kampai_ , right?"

Sheena nodded as he gulped. " _Kampai_." She took the bottle as he handed it to her, and took a small sip of her own. "I really am sorry, you know."

"You know what?" Zelos said suddenly. "Take a drink every time you say you're sorry."

She looked at him across the side of the bottle, sipped again. "Is that how we're playing the game tonight? How about you take a drink every time you mention how much dirt you have on you."

"I'm _covered_ in dirt," Zelos shouted. He seized the bottle and took a long drink. "In fact, I think I'm the dirtiest man alive." Another swill, this time shorter. His eyebrows raised in mirth as he thought of another one. "Wouldn't you say I've got a dirty mind?" Again he drank.

"I'm _sorry_ I mentioned it," Sheena said flatly.

"Ohhhh!" he exclaimed, passing the bottle to her. "Drink up, hunny, and good luck beating me tonight."

When Sheena had swallowed, she sat upon the grass between the two paths. "You know, it's unfair. I said the amount of dirt, not dirt-related things!"

He plopped down beside her. "How about... I'm the scum of the earth? I'm lower than dirt?" He stole back the bottle.

"No, no, no, more like..."

Faster than you could play Lionel, the bottle had been drained. The two drunken travelers were sprawled out on the moonlit grass.

"Y... Y'know how you're all covered in dirt?" Sheena giggled, barely able to contain her laughter.

"Tchhhh, I know that. The bottle knows it. The whole town knows it!" Zelos said, gesturing above himself with arms flailing.

"Well... Well... we didn't eat that soup and that wine went right to my head," Sheena lamented. "I am… really, really drunk."

Zelos burst into laughter and rolled back on the ground. "Ah hahh... yeah. I'm pretty hungry, too. D'you know what we should do? We should. Absolutely. Cook whatever we have," he suggested, fingers splayed.

"Unghhh... Just don't burn yourself trying to make anything. And by the way, it's _so_ your turn to cook. I did everything at Lloyd’s."

"Does that mean I win?" Zelos delighted.

Sheena put her hand to his face unabashedly. "You win. Now, come on, let's go find a spot to make a fire."

She lifted herself up and bent her knees against some unknown force of movement ("That would be the planet going 'round and 'round," Genis had said to the whole drunken crew once, when they were falling over from the heady local potion). Zelos was much more steady on his feet, and much less drunk this time.

"I won, though! Do you hear that, Iselia? I woonnnnnn." In retrospect, he probably shouldn't have been stationary, shouting, and drunk given their recent fight, but a victory was a victory. He began to sing with great passion. "OOHHHHHHH! _Destination, I don't know! Heigh ho! Heigh ho!"_

He began to dance lightly around her as she balanced herself. That damn traveling song!

" _Mounted on my steed I'll go! Heigh ho! Heigh ho! When the day is over, it will be tomorrow! It’ll happen, I will go, if the whole world should end! Sending me straight back to_ —" He paused and motioned for her to follow. "You sing, too!"

"Nnnah, I'll pass," she dodged. She followed as he leaped down the path on the left.

"Aww, c'mon, sing!" he insisted. " _Destination, I don't know! Heigh ho! Heigh ho! Mounted on my steed I'll goooo_ —?" He was prompting her with the whole of him.

Smiling against the weight of the hated song, she managed, " _Heigh hoooooo, heigh hoooo."_

Zelos sang the damn song all the way to the first line of trees and then some. They set themselves a good distance into the woods with Iselia truly far-off. Flicking a match between his fingers, Zelos prepared to ignite the most anticipated fire of the trip thus far.

“No, waaait,” Sheena groaned. “Aren't we still too close? Your rule?”

Squinting, Zelos scanned the forest and starry sky. “Well... we're not in a town, and we're not at a friend's house. Besides, I'm starving. Let's make some meat.”

By the end of the meal, Sheena had eaten most of the worthy protein—pork, coincidentally—and shifted to accommodate her bloated stomach. Zelos was watching her intently, making sure she hadn't had too much of either vice that she might be sick again. Goodness knows she'd already vomited on his shoes once; she'd probably do it again. Worse things had happened.

He eyed the pile of pans and utensils that would surely need to be washed. Their shadows grew and shrank with the greedy fire's light, taunting him. Luckily, he was past the point at which the taunting came in the form of actual words. He didn't feel much like talking, either; in fact neither traveler had said a word since the food was distributed.

Check on her again.

Sheena slowly lifted her gaze across the top of the fire, looking straight at him now. There was no pretense in her expression. She was watching him like he were a lit-up piece of magitechnology. Darting across his eyes, his forehead, his nose, her eyes scrutinized him. Perhaps she forgot where she was and tied herself to this anchor in the drunken sea.

Suddenly, she looked down and away from him, back into the tinder.

“Do I have something on my face, or what?” Zelos asked finally. Sheena shook her head, still looking down. Something about her slumped shoulders seemed more vulnerable than usual.

“You're not going to be sick, are you?”

Again, Sheena shook her head.

“Weeeell, drink some water and let's get your bag set up so you can sleep,” Zelos rambled, “I'll take first watch.”

Sheena snorted. What a formal thing for him to say. But now her disdain turned to a grin, then reverted to a slack frown.

Zelos wrung his hands lightly. “What's going on in that head of yours?” he asked quietly.

“I'm still sorry, you know,” Sheena admitted to the dirt.

Moving around the fire, Zelos quickly sat beside her. “Hey, I told you not to worry about it.”

This age of silence made him uncomfortable. In any moment before this, he never worried what she was thinking. He had just known—or had tried to guess with a fair rate of success. They'd already solved this thing with Lloyd. The bottle of wine, wasn't that a gift enough? She wasn't one for gestures, either, since that was his thing. Knowing her, he'd swifter receive a kick in the crotch than some apologetic speech.

So, why wasn't Sheena in a crotch-kicking stance?

“I'm...” Zelos trailed. The dishes caught his eye. “I think I'll give you some space and wash those. After all, I'm still covered in a bunch of dirt...”

Sheena seemed nervous to reach out her hand to his shoulder when he shifted as though to leave. An alarm went off inside him that hadn't sounded for a long time.

“You already won the game, you idiot,” she mumbled.

"I—Sheena, you're drunk," he cautioned. She still looked at him, now closer. When did she get closer? Her gravity was a blinding force.

"I'm not drunk," she resolved. She turned her head. "I'm sorry. What I did."

"I know you're sorry," he deflected, leaning back. She was again looking up at him, searching between his eyes, and now her face was just—really close—and her breath was on him again. His head burned. The smell of the wine. The smell of skin.

When he reached his hands up to stop her, he just ended up with them on either side of her face; and he was kissing her. Or at least, his lips were on hers and he wasn't sure if he was drunk or dreaming or dying. When he opened his eyes, she was still there.

"You've... got dirt on your face," Zelos stammered.

Sheena scrunched her eyebrows together. “I already told you, that joke is..."

"No, I mean," he said, and he really struggled to push her away, "I got dirt on your face, and you shouldn't get any more on you.”

He looked around the campfire and was reminded of the open air, the sleeping bags, Lloyd's couch, and everything in between. The dishes. "And even if you aren't drunk, you're stressed. Don't... think you should do something you'll regret."

She blinked a few times, innocently enough. "Wait... what? Who said I'm...”

“Sheena.”

Her expression fell. “You should...”

Partly to hide his face and partly to console her, Zelos reached forward and held her tightly. He felt Sheena's nose on his ear and nearly pushed her, but she only whispered.

“... do the dishes...”

“Mhm,” Zelos grinned. He leaned in and scooped her up, then staggered to get her away from the fire a little. He set up the tucked-away sleeping bag and helped her crawl in.

Clumsily, Sheena reached up for his face. “Stay?” she said, her voice weak.

“Sheena,” Zelos admonished lightly. “I can’t.”

“Just ‘til I fall asleep, not anything weird, or nothin’…”

“It’s not like you’re so drunk you need babysitting,” he rationalized.

“Need a pillow,” she replied.

Zelos cracked a smile. “Ah, I’ve been ignorant. You were pampered being in a house.” He unzipped the side of the bag and sidled in, leaving a leg and his back facing the fire. “Lift your head up.” When she did, he placed his arm under her neck and head. “Better?”

“Hm… Upbringing,” Sheena tried. Her eyes closed.

“Go to sleep, then,” Zelos said, although he was almost certain she’d already fallen asleep.

It would have been more comfortable to rest his other arm across her waist or to turn onto his back, but Zelos stayed with his arm extended under her and tried to relax. There was a rock that had presumably been cutting into Sheena’s ear, and it was now cutting into him. The only solace was that his being there made her sleep peacefully.

He leaned up briefly, reaching across her shoulder to the side of her face, where her hair had fallen messily. She wouldn’t remember, so it wouldn’t matter that he kissed her cheek very gently before letting himself sink back into the ground. After all, he couldn’t let her give him such a gift without thanking her at least a little.

To think the evening could have ended so differently…

He grinned into sleep and dreamed of clear, blue skies over a wide valley.


	7. FIXIN'

**7\. FIXIN'**

He blinked and awoke.

In the dark of a waning moon, he noticed the fire had been reduced to nearly ashes. The entire left side of him was frozen; his right arm numbed under the weight of Sheena’s head. If the warmth of her body could cover him whole, it’d have been enough. But the edge of winter sliced its way into him. 

Gently, he slipped away from her, leaving his pillow-arm for last. She let out a half-grumble of protest before promptly falling back asleep. Crouched on the ground beside her, he zipped the side of the bag, being sure to cover her entirely. 

The bigger branches were a little way off, so Zelos made a point of carrying as many as would fit in his arms and dragging them back. By the time he’d finished his haul, the fire had gone out completely. Waste of matches. Might as well resort to artes, eh? He cast a brief flare over the branches, then kindled it into a proper fire. But rustling from his far left caught him off guard.

Since it wasn’t big, plodding steps, the sound couldn’t have been from terrorists. He’d met too many of them to know that they were all clumsy in the dark. Wasn’t Lloyd, either. Actually, it sounded a bit like the way Sheena walked, but she hadn’t moved from the spot where he left her.

Cautiously, quietly, Zelos announced himself. “Hey. Whoever’s out there… if you don’t show yourself, you can’t blame me if I decide to defend myself.”

A figure emerged from behind bark, bathed in orange glow. “It is I.”

Ah. Mizuho clothes weren’t far off from his guess. The man wore his dark blue robes and mask, formal as ever.

“Well. Been a while, Orochi,” Zelos sighed.

“Of course the Chosen One would be able to spot me before I reveal myself,” Orochi said, giving a stiff bow. “And then there’s my village’s Chief… oh, my."

Zelos glanced over to Sheena’s sleeping bag. She breathed undisturbed. “Here, siddown,” he continued. “I didn’t make this fire for nothing.”

Orochi approached him slowly, taking silent steps through the leaves. He sat on the ground a good distance from Zelos. His eyes flashed across the fire.

“Heh,” Zelos laughed. Must have been at least a month and a half since he’d seen Orochi last. That guilting look never left his face. “So, are you here to be the bearer of bad news?” 

Orochi continued to stare at the fire. “It would seem so.”

“The terrorists,” Zelos began.

“Seles,” Orochi blurted.

Zelos inhaled slowly. “Shit.”

His hand wandered upward and grasped for a spot of fabric. But the collar of his shirt wasn’t right. When his fingers brushed the smooth, round bulb of Exsphere, his hand retreated to the back of his neck.

“They told me you have two days, outside of Palmacosta…”

A woman walking down the road and coming to the fork. Rock-paper-scissors. Running in the rain.

But then, that isolating day at the church. Everyone dressed in black, and just Sebastian. The little redheaded girl that belonged to nobody and cried a lot, and wheezed. The little part of him.

“… and that was yesterday,” Orochi continued gravely.

Zelos nodded. “Yeah.”

“They requested that you come alone.”

“Yeah...”

“I believe they’re serious.”

“You came on a Rheaird,” Zelos stated.

Orochi looked up at the Chosen quizzically. “I did, but… how could you have…?” Suddenly, he waved his hand. “Forgive me, I’d forgotten that you weren’t asleep.”

“Asleep...” Zelos repeated. For weeks. “Yeah. Well, at any rate, I’ll save it for the morning. Oh, and one more thing,” he continued, “Just… don’t tell Sheena anything, okay? Really, she worries too much about other people. I’m sure you understand.”

“I do,” Orochi agreed. He turned his head toward the sleeping Sheena.

“And y’know, I’ve already caused her enough trouble. ‘Course, it is _me_ we’re talking about, so.” Zelos forced a light chuckle.

Looking back at Zelos, Orochi began, “You must allow me go with you. I brought an extra Rheaird with me. If I accompany you, maybe—”

Well, it explained the wasted day.

Zelos shook his head. The vision from Triet racked him.

“Don’t know if you know about Seles and me. There’s some… some stuff. I mean, some things have happened and… well, it’s not great between us.” He smiled sadly at the fire. The way the flames charred the wood and ate it up, spitting the smoke into the air. “The Chosen system’s pretty stupid, isn’t it? For a long time, the way it separated us. And even now, when things are changing, they’re just getting more complicated. 

“Not that that’s my fault. Not Seles’s fault either. But I feel like she doesn’t know the other side of me. The side of me that’ll get out in the field and work all day. The side of me that’ll beat up a sailor to save some damsels. Y’know, a cool role model to look up to. If I could do that... Just one time showing her is enough. I think if she saw the real me, she wouldn’t resent me so much. So, please… I’ve gotta do this on my own,” Zelos concluded.

Orochi cast a suspicious glance. “Even if you keep the deal, there’s no guarantee that the terrorists will free Seles.”

“Buuuuut,” Zelos interrupted with the wag of a finger, “if I don’t go alone, there’s a hundred-percent chance of her dying. The odds can’t be much worse than that. I really don’t have any other choice!”

His throat stung him out of saying more.

It wasn’t the first time Seles had been threatened by death. Regardless of the illnesses she’d had as a child, Seles was mocked for being the illegitimate child of the former Chosen and a half-elf. She’d been put to trial by the Pope for her mother’s crimes. She’d received death threats from fervent supporters of her brother, but also from supporters of Cruxis. There was no reasoning behind it, really, aside from trying to rile up Zelos to the point where he’d do something about it. Every time, it made Zelos feel guilty for the things he never did and the protection he could never offer. If they could only see just how great a leader she’d be. If only she, who could shoulder everything, could be the one to shoulder the burden of the Chosen.

If he hadn’t run away—if he hadn’t made that choice, where might Seles be right now? How many months had he gone without contacting her, with her in such a condition? All the while, leaping around mindlessly with Sheena, whom he was also dragging along into the crosshairs. How long would it be until the terrorists got to her, too?

There would be no margin of error; Orochi must have known that. No wonder he wanted to keep Sheena out of it.

“Hey, Orochi,” he addressed, belting out his voice a little stronger than he wanted, “Can you lend me some paper?”

“Paper?” Orochi asked innocently.

Zelos nodded. “I need to write something.”

“Let me check.” Orochi efficiently produced a pouch from his sleeve. “Ah.” Out came a small sheet, textured in the Mizuhoan way, and a small bit of charcoal. He handed it to Zelos, then stood.

“Thanks,” Zelos muttered. “Oh, I guess,” he added, bowing his head lightly.

The attempt elicited a smirk from Orochi. “It’s nothing.”

But while Zelos was trying to wield the charcoal bit, the ninja had wandered to the fire, where the dishes from a handful of hours before gleamed guiltily. He knelt and collected them in his hands.

“Whoa, hey, you don’t have to do that,” Zelos stammered—yet quietly.

“I spotted a stream not far from here. Please, allow me to do this,” Orochi urged. “And perhaps it’s best if the Chief doesn’t realize I’m here right away when she wakes up.”

Zelos rolled his eyes fleetingly. “… Is that a weird ninja trick you guys have; jump out of nowhere or something?”

Orochi’s focus shifted to the forest, and he paused before taking swift steps.

The remorse snapped, brittle. “Sorry. I just don’t get what’s scary about waking up to see you there than waking up to see me. Monster that I am, and all.” 

“It isn’t something I can explain, Chosen.” With that, Orochi continued on the path, careful not to clack the dishes.

Zelos almost said, ‘ _So it IS one of those ninja things_ ,’ but to shout would have awoken the still-sleeping Sheena. Instead, he pondered the scrap of paper in his hand. What to write? It wasn’t all that large a scrap. Barely larger than his hand, even.

He imagined writing a couple lines, leaving her something to smile about, nothing to regret. But he’d have to run, and run now, if he wrote what was on his mind. That wasn’t something he was prepared to do when the light of a new dawn crawled into vision.

Seles gnawed at him.

No space for a novel, no desire for a sob story, no guarantee she’d be the only one reading it. His gaze wandered to Sheena’s back, which gently rose and fell without interruption; then to her neck, soft flesh uncovered by the sleeping bag. That sprawling klutz; she was determined to sleep off the wine, unaware of the knots he tied while she slumbered.

He wanted to ignore the mess and treat Orochi’s words like the bad dream they’d become. He wanted and craved to creep over and resume her warmth, to wrap his arm around her and fit squeezed-together. Nothing to blush over. Just to make sure she wasn’t a dream, too.

The phrase came to his queasy heart, and he scratched into the paper with resolution.

His task finished, Zelos folded the paper into fourths. How informal; if there were some way to fold it he knew only Sheena could open, he’d feel more comfortable leaving it in Orochi’s care. Of course, Mizuhoans had all sorts of folding paper that were both artful and useful. It was incidental that he wouldn’t be able to fold any secrets that Orochi wouldn’t be able to unfold.

No way she’d get it on the first read, though. Ah, that was Sheena. Under-analyzing to the point of impulse. Exactly; she wouldn’t catch it, and she wouldn’t follow him. Then, whatever would happen, could happen.

There was a light footfall nearby, and Zelos turned his head. Orochi had returned nearly as silently as he’d first arrived. This time, Zelos rose more quickly.

“Thanks, my man. Here, gimme those, and you take this,” he said. He offered his hand, outstretched with the paper.

Orochi swapped the pan for the letter and took a glance at it. “For…?”

“Sheena, yes,” Zelos finished. “Just for her. And so’s this. Watch…”

Zelos raised the pan in his hand, smile plastering on his face. With his other hand, he raised the butt end of the utensils and paused.

**CLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANG** —!

Startled Orochi, for sure.

And Sheena, wild-eyed, flung her arms violently and screeched. “AHHHH, I’M UP I’M UP!”

“Ah! The maiden awakens,” Zelos chirped, setting the pan down. He couldn’t help but laugh at her disheveled—lovely, but still disheveled—hair.

“And the idiot continues to be an idiot!” Sheena grunted and shoved herself up. But when she turned her head, she realized someone else was standing next to Zelos.

“Orochi! What are you… _why_ are you...”

“Good morning, Chief,” Orochi greeted with a bow. He stood sheepish next to Zelos and his mischievous grin.

Sheena’s ears scorched. How long had he been there? Had he been following them? And, most importantly, just exactly what happened last night that she felt so uneasy in her gut?

“Good morning, Orochi. Ah, it’s nice to see you,” Sheena replied. She glared at Zelos.

“I gotta say, I can’t believe you didn’t notice when he arrived,” Zelos exclaimed.

Sheena slipped out of the sleeping bag and dusted it off. “A-actually, I knew he was there. ‘Cause me and Orochi, see, we can communicate even while I’m sleeping.”

Zelos raised an eyebrow.

“It’s a Mizuho thing!”

Zelos looked back at Orochi. “Is it?”

Sheena’s eyes widened, but Orochi retained his cool. “There are many things you don’t know about Mizuho culture, Chosen One,” Orochi responded.

Zelos inspected his fingernails, then looked up slyly. “Oh? I feel like I’ve gotten a pretty good grasp on some of the _concepts_ ,” he said. Sheena seemed primed to strike, so he continued, “pretty sure there’s no mind-reading.”

Sheena huffed a sigh and put her hands on her hips. “Honestly. Orochi, how long have I kept you waiting?”

“Not long,” Orochi sighed.

“What about some breakfast? Hand me that pan,” Sheena turned to Zelos. “Might as well make some use of this thing.”

When Zelos extended the pan to her, he shot a serious glance. “Yeah… good that it’s getting some use.”

So, she definitely didn’t remember what happened last night, or even in the earlier hours of the morning. Her honest eyes would have given her away.

Orochi shifted, his arms crossing. “I would be grateful, but you needn’t make anything too exceptional.”

“No, no! I’d be glad to,” Sheena murmured, rummaging through the rucksack. “Where did…? I thought I just bought supplies.”

“… Don’t worry about it!” Zelos interjected, laughing.

“You didn’t eat all of the bacon, did you?”

“Hah! Nope, wasn’t me.”

Sheena reared back. “You _stupid_ Chosen!”

“Ah—Chief, it’s not necessary—” Orochi supplicated.

“Hhhhhhhgggh, I won’t have you go hungry,” Sheena huffed in reply.

Zelos tossed a hand into his hair. “He won’t. There’s gotta be something hidden in there, eh?”

“If you think so, why don’t you give it a look?”

At first, Orochi grew impatient with their bickering; but interrupting would only reveal the urgency of his visit. He tapped a foot. Despite the tone his Chief hurled at the Chosen, Sheena wasn’t ill at ease. Orochi recalled how Sheena would flinch at the Chosen’s name even just months ago. That alone had been enough for Orochi to hold a grudge. After all, Sheena barely spoke poorly of anyone in Mizuho, perhaps owing to her own insecurities; but she never hesitated to react to that guy. How could Orochi, in good conscience, ignore that? Orochi fought Zelos, not knowing whether such a man could be trusted. Yet in time, and over tears, Sheena’s feelings emerged—how could he not allow her to go?

It amused Orochi to see both sides of the story. Here she was, insulting and berating Zelos when he was the only reason she was on this journey. Not conventional in the slightest. Perhaps, Orochi wondered, it wasn’t her destiny to be the most conventional Chief.

He smirked.

In the meantime, Zelos had found some unbroken eggs and bread and set about making breakfast, nary a complaint.

“So, this one says there’s good news from Meltokio,” Zelos announced, turning over the toast, “and he wanted to let us know ASAP. That’s why he was here so early. Hey, Sheena, pass the plates, will ya?”

The plastic plates clattered in Sheena’s hands as she obliged—and this, after being so disturbed in waking. It sparked in Orochi a wonder that something had changed between them. But he was distracted by Sheena’s offering of eggs and toast.

“What’s the news? Is it about the terrorists?” Sheena asked, eyes shining.

Orochi nodded once. “We have exterminated them,” he said plainly.

“Yeah, all two-birds–one-stone,” Zelos added, light of voice.

“Two birds—I don’t get it. What’s the second one?” Sheena asked, picking off the crusts with her fingers.

Before Orochi could send Zelos a worried glance, Zelos was already laughing. “Well if you have to ask, all that means for me is a crapload of paperwork. Pope’s already haranguing me from afar, and stuff. So I guess,” he concluded, “I’m the bird.”

“Well, you’re an _odd_ bird, if nothing else.”

Orochi waited for a further question from his Chief, but when she settled into dipping her toast in the eggs, he knew it had gone under the radar. The clock ticked.

* * *

Down where the stream met a lake, Zelos crouched and began to wash the pan and dishes. If he could just keep his cool, he’d get to Seles in time. Yet, if this was going to be the last time he saw Sheena, how could he make sure he wouldn’t linger?

He began to hum idly; notes fell into a familiar tune. It made the work go faster, at least.

_Heigh-ho, heigh-ho._

“Zelos!”

Ah, speak of the banshee. Sheena jogged her way down the stretch of grass.

“Hey, gimme a second—I’m almost done, I promise!” he replied.

He hurried his work, now drying off the dishes with a small rag. But instead of retreating, Sheena came forward and stood with her hands on her hips above him. “See, just finishing up.” He stacked it together, setting pan and dishes inside the rag.

“You’re getting pretty used to it, huh?” Sheena asked, her voice surprisingly relaxed. 

“Y’know, it’s weird. I didn’t think I’d end up liking this sort of thing,” he admitted.

“Doing the dishes? What a weirdo,” Sheena chuckled.

“Nah, the… cooking… the laundry in the woods… the dishes… sleeping in the open.” The blades of grass surrounding him weaved easily between his fingers and he plucked them out in emphasis.

“Aw, we’ve made a homemaker outta you,” Sheena joked. She stretched her arms behind her back.

Zelos laughed, smallish, and swept the grass off his fingers. He waited for Sheena to continue, maybe mocking him a little. Odd she didn’t.

“So, what’s up?” he prompted, not wasting a moment.

Sheena stared out toward the rising sun. “Uh, nothing, really.”

He knew that tone. “Hah. Well, don’t stand around on my behalf,” he said, and offered a space of ground beside him. With hesitance, Sheena obliged and sat cross-legged overlooking the pond. “So, I guess… I got you in some trouble this time around, eh?” he finished.

“Me? Nah,” Sheena dismissed. She turned her head slowly toward him.

He had to wonder if she was remembering the night before. So he continued.

“I almost went alone, y’know. Made sense to. But after I packed... Not like I was _desperate_ or anything,” Zelos defended. But Sheena kept gazing at him silently, just nodding her head. For the first time, he didn’t stop himself. “When I was leaving, the only thing that came to my mind was… your face…”

“O-oh…”

Zelos laughed sharply, throwing a hand up to his forehead. Not like her reaction would have mattered. “Hah, I guess I haven’t thanked you,” he admitted.

“Heh. You haven’t.”

“You… _want me to_?” he crooned, leaning in with a disarming smile. It was the sort of line that would have made a middle-aged noblewoman blush—not her. But she was close, and not shying, and not hitting to get away.

Sheena snorted. “Pfff, for _what_?”

Her eyes were firelight. So he smiled into forgetfulness and stood up. “Heh, got me there.”

“So,” Sheena began, standing, “I guess we don’t have to sleep outdoors and play pretend.”

“Yep!”

“And we don’t have to cook over little fires anymore.”

“Yep.”

“So, I guess, with the dishes…?”

“Yep, they’re all done!” He bent and picked up the small pile.

“There we have it! I can finally go back to my old schedule,” Sheena said, smiling widely, so naively unaware. “I thought it going back to working as Chief would be boring, but after being away from it so long, I almost miss it.”

She had a lot to miss from Mizuho. It wasn’t like she was running away from it in the first place. She’d be fine. She’d be better off not knowing.

“You must be like that, too.” Sheena raised expectant eyebrows. “Well, say something!”

He shrugged his shoulders halfheartedly. “I’m sorry.” Then, the silent ticking reminded him. He clutched the dishes tighter. “I guess we had a good run, eh? The Chief and the Chosen.”

Ugh. It sounded like a legend you’d tell your children, he thought, long after the feelings are dead and everything’s back to normal. Or some tragedy. Or worse, a tabloid heading. He wished he hadn’t made the implication.

“Yeah…”

“Hey, Sheena…”

“Huh?”

The back of his throat was all icky and tight. He looked across the sun-spilled water for an answer, but nothing ever came. There was a burning in his arm pleading him to move just a little closer to her.

“Y’know… the way we are, right now… couldn’t we just escape somewhere far, far away?”

For a flash, her eyes met his. His stomach sank.

Sheena took a breath. “Speaking of that, Orochi seemed like he was in a hurry. Shall we…?”

“… Sure.”

The line was drawn. No use trying to cross it now.

Zelos spared no time striding back to the campsite, pressing Sheena’s pace instead of keeping it. He passed by Orochi, even leaving the rucksack. He started the Rheaird as quickly as his hands would work.

“Sorry, but I gotta jet!” he called over the drone. “Hate to take the only Rheaird, but you know how it is!”

“It’s fine, just go already! Say hello to that paperwork for me,” Sheena called, catching up. As Zelos kicked the hover control, he noticed Sheena was smiling up at him. He drew a mental portrait.

“Be sure to take care, Chosen One!” Orochi tagged.

“You too, Orochi!” Zelos shouted back. He began to ascend.

Would this be the last time…?

He couldn’t think about it. But somehow, it seemed less painful knowing she wouldn’t have to travel back alone. She’d have Orochi. No matter what happened, she’d have Mizuho’s protection.

“… Sheena!” Zelos called.

“What?” Sheena replied. She whipped her head back, but it was still tilted in that quizzical way he’d miss.

What, indeed. “Don’t forget!”

“Forget what!”

He didn’t wait around to give her the answer. The trees blurred beneath him, and the high wind tested his grip. He knew if he looked back and saw her confused expression, he’d waste precious seconds until Seles’s assassination.

He locked a breath of freezing air deep into his lungs. Who was he kidding? Sheena probably hadn’t logged all the mornings in her mind. She was more likely to recall the times he rushed her breakfast, changed directions, and let the anxiety of pursuit get the better of him. Time would eat her memories of whatever this was; she’d return to the safe cradle of Mizuho and never have to regret.

But in the meantime, Seles…

He’d get her out of there. She’d have a chance.

Redlining the Rheaird, Zelos knew that there was no choice this time. No backing out. He felt the doubting pang again, a rush that numbed him. If there were only a few of them, he’d negotiate, like before when Sheena was poisoned. If there were more; well, he’d fight them like before when Sheena was poisoned. One of them would have to have a shovel.

He squinted through the sun.

Even without the built-in navigation system, Zelos knew he was nearing the place. The ground below was flattening and impossibly green for Sylvarant territory. Suddenly, the glare of the ocean was nearly beneath him, and he circled around to find the buildings of Palmacosta. His eyes traced the earth to the land entrance of town.

The out-of-place terrorist stakeout wasn’t so much a shack as it was a warehouse—he’d give Orochi the benefit of the doubt on that one. But that would only mean more obstacles to get to Seles.

He landed the Rheaird a little distance away; the open field would reveal any ugly surprises. The vehicle slumped into the grass, nearly falling over when he swung a leg over to jump off. It wouldn’t matter. If they were going to steal it, they would steal it.

 “BIG BROTHER!”

* * *

“Honestly, that Chosen, sometimes,” Sheena griped. She watched the Rheaird for a moment before shaking her head.

“I guess that’s that.”

“Yeah…”

“So, what kind of trip did it turn out to be?” Orochi asked, grinning behind his replaced mask.

“Do you want the… _long_ version or the short version?” Sheena busied herself by kicking a bit of dirt onto the fire.

“Let’s go with short for now.”

“Makes sense. It was… pretty fun, in the end. Yep! I had fun.”

She slapped her hands together. Looked like Zelos had forgotten the rucksack that actually belonged to him—that’d be a pain to return. But maybe he’d realize it and turn around. She knelt to collect everything: the dishes, the sleeping bag.

When Orochi didn’t respond, Sheena made use of the time. “So, you seemed like you wanted to go right away. Should we start heading back to Mizuho? If we go by sea, it could be about two or three days at the worst, I guess. Depending on the ship. And I hope you brought some currency, because I don’t feel like peeling potatoes again—Hey Orochi, are you listening?”

“Sheena,” Orochi began, the word tinged with shame.

“Hm?”

“What the Chosen one said about the extermination of the terrorists earlier; there’s something else,” he admitted.

Sheena’s eyes widened. “Th-the other bird?”

Orochi nodded.

“I _knew_ something was up!” she shouted.

“Forgive me, but it seemed inappropriate to correct him.”

“Well, I guess if you saved it for me, we wouldn’t have wanted to worry him, anyway,” Sheena muttered. “So what is it?”

Orochi winced sweetly at the ground. “Actually, it’s about the Chosen.”

“What?! Spill the beans!” Sheena straightened up.

“The terrorists—they took Seles; a shack outside of Palmacosta, not difficult to miss among the new construction. They planned to use her as bait to lure him in. When I found them, they demanded the Chosen come alone, or they’d murder Seles.”

Sheena stood in shock, unable to find the words.

“They gave him two days, and this would be the second. What was I to do? If I told the Chosen, he would certainly rush in to rescue her, but put his life in danger. But if I didn’t tell him, Seles would be…” Orochi trailed off at Sheena’s pained expression. “Should I have kept it a secret? Tell me, Sheena; what would you have done?”

Now visibly shaking, all she could muster was a small whimper. “Ah… hhah…”

“I had no choice but to tell the Chosen—to tell Zelos!”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me…” Sheena yelped.

“He left this for you,” Orochi offered, producing the folded paper.

Sheena extended her hand and took the thing. For a moment, she almost squished it, crumpled it, sent it hurtling into the forest.

She should have known. After Flanoir, and after the weird way he’d been acting just now. Acting like it was nothing. Apologizing. If only she hadn’t had so much to drink, maybe she wouldn’t have been sleeping when Orochi arrived, and—

_“Don’t forget!”_ It echoed in her mind now, clanging like the rim of the pan. _Don’t forget_ what _, you idiot Chosen?_

It made sense, now, what he said about Seles. Of course he’d go charging in like a moron without thinking about how he could be hurt. And the time when she was poisoned—she smelled blood on the air, yet he was too proud to admit the risk he’d taken. Sheena didn’t know much about Seles, but something grave had to have happened for Zelos to rush off without telling the truth.

He always did that. He never said what was really going on in his head. And _she_ never thought to ask, not once—!

“I wish you wouldn’t go,” Orochi stated, “But I know that I can’t stop you, either.”

“I’m—I’m sorry, Orochi,” Sheena choked. To do this again; leave with not much more notice than tears and the edges of words she couldn’t say.

“The other bird is that way, perhaps a kilometer or so.”

The realization struck. “A Rheaird…” she said. “Then, I—I’ll leave Mizuho to…”

Orochi reached out and grabbed both of Sheena’s shoulders. “Sheena. You are not my leader.”

Forced to look at him, she couldn’t control the welling of tears. Of course… she wasn’t even cut out for that, was she? Not in moments like these. Instead of planning ahead, she put Zelos in the line of fire by running around with him. Running _away_ with him. Who was she to lead Mizuho if she couldn’t foresee the bigger picture?

But Orochi’s next words floated lightly. “You’re Sheena.”

Sheena recognized the expression on his face. It was the same willful respect as when he came to visit her following the Volt incident. There was no reason for Orochi to forgive her for that, or for this, or for what could happen to Mizuho if the next part of this journey ended poorly. Yet, he always did. Her head drooped, spilling two trails of tears from her shocked eyes.

“Just go now! He needs you,” Orochi urged. “Outside of Palmacosta.

She blinked and grasped the folded paper in her hand.

“Thank you… Thank you!” she cried.

Orochi squeezed her shoulders. “Good luck.” Then, he gave a gentle push.

Sheena nodded and turned to run.

Although the ground crunched under her feet, she felt numb. The patternless trees zipped by her. All that she could see was that stupid Chosen’s face glancing up from the soup bowl in Mizuho, asking about the trip.

The elbow thrown up behind his red hair as he admitted he didn’t want to follow the path fate had given him, back at the fork in the road.

Light behind him as he leaned against the window of the little cabin; saying, “Good morning, princess,” and meaning it, like she wasn’t waking up with a sour mouth from a battle she didn’t win.

Scattered hay in the wagon, singing carefree into the afternoon.

The path leading away from Iselia, and the gentling of his face at his apology. The walking and the wine, and something deep in her soul.

_“The way we are, right now…”_

The thoughts wouldn’t end, and she gasped and stumbled forward. But in her blindness, a rock caught her boot. The surprise landed her hard on her knees and palms, where the pain jolted through her bones. She pushed upward, jumping, until she realized the fall had dislodged the note from her hand.

She sprang back and grasped through leaves for the sheet of paper. Realizing she hadn’t opened it, she forced her fingers through the fold.

The thing was blank. There was only one word in the middle. No greeting, nothing formal, no—and she didn’t want to think about it—requests. In fact, the only way she would have known it was from Zelos was the way he wrote his T’s.

“ _Thanks_ ,” it read.

“Zelos!” she screeched, as though the air would carry her voice in time. “ZELOS!”

* * *

A stake. 

They had tied her to a stake. A rudimentary platform in the back surrounded by stacks of firewood and boxes, and in the middle of it, his precious sister. Seles’s voice had long diffused into the space between wooden boards.

Some bastard on the platform waved around the torch like a victory flag, alerting the swarm. The torchlight revealed flags tacked to the walls, but also a staircase to access the platform. Zelos’s eyes darted, counting over fifty grunts. Geez, did they have sign-ups at the fishermen’s association, or whatever they did here in Palmacosta?

It wouldn’t be easy. He pondered flanking the left side and making a beeline for Seles, but there weren’t any windows and the ceiling was lofted—and besides that, he didn’t really want to expose his wings. That meant no Shining Bind. Huh, he really was going to have to take each and every one of them out.

He clutched his belt with his left hand and sauntered across the dusty concrete.

From the shadows, the leader emerged. He wore a bandanna similar to the one worn by the leader of the other terrorists.

“Look who finally showed up. I hope you’re alone,” the man greeted. Of the bunch, this one was the easiest on the eyes. Either he was a figurehead, or he was the one making connections with the general population. At least Zelos knew what he was working with.

“I’d have to be. This town ain’t big enough for the two of us, or whatever you hicks say,” Zelos drawled. His hand moved to the hilt of his sword. “So let my sister go.”

“That would be no fun. And I hear the Chosen One is all about having fun,” the leader continued, “running away to play while his mutt sister is left unattended!”

The man cackled. He’d probably been feeding that brand of lie to Seles since her capture.

But instead of ire, the look on Seles’s face was urgent. Her eyes were wide and her teeth gritted. The ropes restraining her probably burned with every movement.

“Zelos, don’t fall for it!” she shouted hoarsely. “Run!”

Like hell.

He turned his eyes back to the grunts, the lot of whom awaiting a signal. The headcount assured, Zelos took a deep breath.

“Hey, Seles,” he called, almost whimsical.

Seles’s voice, too weak to answer, squeaked as she watched him.

“Am I…” Zelos continued. He popped the sword out by an inch or so and gave a menacing look to the leader. “Am I the _bomb_?”

“… What?” Genuine confusion spread across her face. Staggered, scattered laughs rose throughout the warehouse.

“Come on, Seles! Am I the bomb?” Zelos barked. If she wasn’t going to trust him now, then when?

“Yes… Yes!” she cried.

“All right, then.” Dramatically, he let the metal of his sword loose with a loud ring, and lunged to the side.

 “Watch me go out with a bang!”

The tactic worked; at least, for the stunned man closest to Zelos who couldn’t get out of the way of his sword in time. One. That was an easy slice to the right, but behind the fallen man, two more charged. Using the leverage of the first lunge, Zelos launched his left leg around in a kick that sent him spinning and into another slash.

Three. Another one to his left, straight thrust; another to his right, extended kick to the jaw. Oh, boy, good thing he wasn’t wearing the white pants today. The blood accumulating on his sword was already starting to spatter, and he’d just gotten started.

Five. If he didn’t start moving up to those stairs, he’d be cornered. A quick heel-landing leap over bodies made him land in a deep bend, but close to the wall. He took a stride and vaulted onto the wooden boards next to him, sending him flying toward a small group. Perfect.

With a windup, Zelos thrusted into a Victory Light Spear, sending the pack flying from the tip of his blade. Eleven.

Then, the first backlash. Apparently one of those fallen men wasn’t entirely fallen, because something hit Zelos’s back enough to knock the wind out of him. It was sharp, but more forceful than a blade. What, a mace? He turned his head just quickly enough to see a crude bat with fragments of metal sticking out of it.

He whipped around, grabbing the sheath of his sword in the process. With his left arm, he knocked the attacker backward, and with his right, skewered him. Only then was it apparent that the man had had a shallow laceration across his collarbone, but it hadn’t been deep enough to penetrate his chest. Well, that would do it.

Now, eleven? More assailants swarmed from 7 to 12 on his clock, and this time the pain made moving his sword infinitely more difficult. He dodged the leftmost grunt and slammed out the back of his knee, which propelled the man forward. It was enough for Zelos to use him as a shield as the man’s comrades staggered, confused. At least one of the other grunts missed his intended attack and ended up severing most of the shield’s arm.

Zelos grabbed the poor man’s head and gave it a quick click before shoving him back as dead weight. It earned him a few free seconds to whirl around toward a clear patch. Farther off, Seles stood unwavering against her restraints. The firelight from her guard’s torch had moved closer to Zelos, and it was clear the focus had shifted away from harming Seles.

Urgh. One must have been hiding in the shadows, because Zelos’s leg took a well-timed blow. At his next blink, a blade’s edge surged toward his eye. He guarded his leg instinctively, and in doing so he dropped below the level of the oncoming attack. He powered through his feet and led a strong stab upward at the man’s neck.

“If you want to kill me, why don’t you try a little harder?” Zelos taunted. Around then, he lost count.

With the area clear, he concentrated his mana into a glowing circle beneath him. As expected, the cadre advanced. He aimed the attack straight at them. “Thunder Blade!”

The ethereal weapon descended upon them, engulfing them in electrified indigo. When the bodies dropped, they twitched and added the stench of burnt skin to the musty air.

“Hah, come at me!”

Almost obediently, three new pairs of grunts hurtled forth. It was too much for a sweeping set of slashes; by the time Zelos got to the right-most pair, both were vying for his neck.

He wasn’t sure how he fended them off, but a push with hand and blade sufficed. His leg was dampening with blood and his back ached, but to stop now would sacrifice his attention. More grunts flew at him. He needed to scatter them, and quickly, before they could give him another injury. Zelos again sent mana into his sword-wielding hand.

“Wind Blade!”

The technique blew back the foes momentarily, even smashing the skull of one on the edge of a box. He set up a circle to heal what he could, but just before it activated, another blow hit the back of his head. Through gritted teeth, he yelped, “ _Don’t get in my way_!” before turning to knock the man down.

Zelos was running out of options. The mana was draining and his appearance began to reflect it. But he’d have to use what was left, or else he’d have to rely on his weakening muscles. He threw down another spell circle aimed toward the back of the room.

“Don’t run! Wh-what’s wrong? Scared of a little fire?” he called.

At this, the elusive leader appeared, jogging near the staircase and Seles. He raised his weapon, a long-bladed axe, and began to rouse the remainder of his troop. 

“He won’t last much longer this way. Kill him!”

Zelos noticed a growing swath of flame behind the leader.

Parts of the tinder caught fire and that fire was spreading toward the kindling, and toward his sibling. The torch-bearer had abandoned his post and jumped down to meet the leader.

Amidst the chanting and the screams, Seles’s whimper carried to Zelos’s ear and urged him forward.

“For the sake of the new world!” a man shouted, charging at the Chosen. Zelos lurched to dodge the incoming sword then rerouted enough energy to stab at the man’s side.

The leader’s voice rose above all others. “Our battle does not end here!”

“The hell are you prattling on about? Get your coward ass down here and fight me!” Zelos shouted back. He hadn’t seen the man so much as take a step toward him. Either the leader had no skill as a fighter and couldn’t call Zelos’s bluff, or he was holding out a strong attack until…

“You heard him,” the leader growled at the torch-bearer. With the butt end of the axe, he pushed the man forward down the stairs. That was the true measure; Zelos knew his former estimate of the leader was accurate.

The torch was hurled out of the subordinate’s hand as he fell to the ground—Zelos envisioned his hair charring. But the torch wielder did carry a sword, and not long after he recovered, that sword threatened Zelos more than a worry about burnt hair. Zelos bounded forward and unleashed a Demon Spear that ripped through the whole of the man.

“No one can touch me!” Zelos shouted at the leader. But soon enough, his attention was turned behind him, where an onslaught of men was going to try.

His blade was slick with blood and dulled like his senses, but he pressed forward. He relied on parries and guards to take out the first two.

Perhaps his rhythm was back, but the wave of terrorists grew too large for close-range attacks. “Sh-shit, get it together… Come and get me, already!” he shouted, wiping the foreign blood on his hem before staggering forth.

By the fifth foe, he wasn’t fast enough. The close-range stab of a serrated knife stuck him in the side.

“Guughh!” he coughed. His elbow flew backward to stun the stabber in the face, but the damage had been done.

“Die!” one of them called—he wasn’t sure. The haze of strung nerves and hard breathing caught up to his vision and he thought he saw spots.

Zelos mustered the last drops of mana and flung forth a Double Demon Fang from his blade, causing a couple more men disruption, but not death.

Pain radiated from his side, where he contemplated leaving the knife in his flesh to clot the worse evil of blood loss. But that was the last of his mana, and his strength was failing. He could see that tunnel, and he couldn’t have Seles see him lose so easily. Quickly, he sheathed his sword. He grasped the knife’s blade and pulled it out, covering the wound with his left hand.

Whipping his head around was not an option, so shoulders helped the Chosen view the scene. Somehow, more men. But there was the leader, the target, far enough away from Seles.

If he could just remember the way... He knew Sheena had talked about Orochi’s fighting methods during the Regeneration journey. Orochi threw knives; there was a technique to it, and you have to hold it like so…

Close enough. Zelos threw the knife with all his might toward the leader. Too late; the man had moved to the side, and the knife flopped pathetically.

“Ah, yes, I should have expected that our Chosen would go all-out. You like the pain, do you?” the leader boomed.

The shaking—his hand was now shaking visibly. What to do? He grasped his sword again in his hand and raised it as high as his arm would allow.

“Don’t you,” Zelos began weakly, “underestimate my greatness. I can still kick your ass!”

“With that knife?”

A footman grasped the bottom of Zelos’s hair and pulled him back. In a final surge, the distracted Zelos turned and hacked at the hair-grabbing bastard’s neck.

“Hahh…”

In moving his torso, Zelos felt a new stream of wetness from his side and back. Removing that knife wasn’t wise, he believed, after all.

“Man… just when it started to be a fair fight,” he whimpered, dropping to one knee. He stabbed his sword against the concrete as a kickstand for his wobbly state.

“This is the end of the line!” the leader called. Zelos looked up, knowing that the voice was coming from beside Seles. The fire had sprawled dangerously close to her. The leader picked up a flaming two-by-four and brought it up to Seles’s face, mere centimeters away. Seles’s tears streamed, but could not have put out the fire and smoke that raged. “If you don’t want your sister roasted, how about you drop that sword?”

“In your dreams, hunny,” Zelos strained, clutching his right side. “You’re wrong… if you think I’d… give up as easily as you!”

“Do as I say!”

“Heh. You thugs play dirty,” he muttered. He let the sword drop with a hollow clink. If nothing else, his fist and his good leg might get him far enough to figure out another way.

“What a good sport,” the leader patronized. “Now bring yourself over here, and slowly.”

Zelos planted his right foot, then managed to sway forward enough to stand.

Beside the leader, Seles gulped. “Z-Zo-Zo! Don’t do it!” she shouted. But before she could elaborate, the leader threw the two-by-four to the bottom of the stake and bludgeoned Seles in the ribcage with the blunt side of the axe.

“Shut UP!”

Seles had the end of a scream in her yet.

“DON’T YOU DARE!” Zelos demanded. He watched the wood fall victim to the embers that crawled around it. Seles scooted her feet forward.

“Well, come now!” the leader laughed. He poised his axe as though to fight, but momentarily extended his arm to point at the Chosen. The laughter grew as Zelos hobbled forward. He could barely see the man’s face through the sweat and blood and pain.

“You, the Chosen of Tethe’alla, Zelos Wilder,” the leader continued. “Your accursed soul brought unto this world an unending misfortune! You defile us into suffering due to your wicked ways! Now, you mongrel… be judged!”

What grunts remained marched forward in chant. “Guilty!” they declared simultaneously.

“And for those of us who lost their lives in this, our sacred battle,” the leader said, maudlin, “your sacrifice was not in vain!”

But the leader did not twist a moustache at the statement. In fact, from where Zelos crouched, he could see tears welling up in the man’s eyes. God, did they actually believe this _junk_? If they wanted a sacred battle, why weren’t they with the Church? They’d have a lot in common.

“Th-their brave souls shall shine in the starry heavens!” Then, in a twist of grotesque mimicry, the leader called, “Glory!”

The other terrorists responded in turn, “GLORY!”

Perhaps if they’d been with the Church of Martel, it would have sounded like music. But it came from the mouths of warped, mindless murderers.

With conviction, the leader cried out. “It is WE who are the Chosen Ones! For the sake of a glorious new world, we shall extinguish the evils that lie within you… Zelos Wilder!”

Seles gasped and grappled with the rope that held her to the crisping stake. When Zelos looked up toward the sound, he found the leader reaching for his throat and pulling sharply upward.

“Now, die,” the leader hushed, staring directly at his victim.

Zelos closed his eyes.

* * *

Then, it happened: the bomb.

From above, a great crash thundered. Bits of roof scattered across the floor. Smoke filled the room, and part of him had to wonder whether this was the angel of death.

A great _whoosh_ flooded—and water, or at least something that sounded like it. Great relief in his neck out of nowhere.

When Zelos opened his eyes, he found that he could still not see through the smoke. He closed them again.

The leader shouted something, which brought Zelos into the conclusion that he had to be alive; surely the leader wouldn’t be in his personal sphere of death. But he felt a drag, something pulling him physically to the side. He fell limp, lying back, and when his head rested on the ground it was not on concrete, but something softer.

A gentle hand met Zelos’s cheek where it lingered before forcing his jaw open. Rather than a kiss of death, the semisweet taste of gel hit his tongue. He could barely muster swallowing with his raw throat. But the gel’s effect rushed into him and numbed the superficial wounds. Although, he could still feel his pulse in his side; that could take a minute.

—Wait, who…?

“Where are you hiding, Wilders?” the sneer-laced voice of the leader called.

Zelos’s eyes darted open in time to see familiar pink tails billowing behind an acrobatic figure.

From over the pile of debris, Sheena’s voice resounded. “Here they are!”

Someone recoiled before Sheena continued. “So here’s the idiots who didn’t think to place a guard on the perimeter; the same ones that actually thought they could kill this cockroach Chosen! Y’know, you’re a lot dumber than you look!”

Zelos smirked. “Had to be you, didn’t it,” he muttered.

“Br—Chosen…” The voice of Seles came from his left. Suddenly, the pain had waned and Zelos could sit up. He scooted over to his sister then helped her up as well. Luckily, she wasn’t marked with weeping burns, although her skin retained the rope pattern.

After surveying the corner, Zelos attempted to kneel, then crouch, then stand up.

“So this is Sheena from the hidden village of Mizuho—Sheena Fujibayashi?” the leader squawked in disbelief. He was already bound by a string of Sheena’s cards, which was a place Zelos knew not to be very pleasant.

As Zelos further surveyed the scene, it looked like Undine had taken care of most of the fire, although a small patch burned at the opposite end of the warehouse. Sheena, a little worse for wear, stood her ground confidently just in front of the Wilders. Perspiration gleamed from her skin and emphasized the dirt she must have encountered climbing up the roof. Not to mention, the lackey terrorists seemed entranced by her and barely moved.

“That’s the name—Don’t wear it out!” Sheena spat with a sideways smile.

“F-f-f-forgive our assumption,” one of the grunts mumbled. Zelos almost felt sorry for that one—he seemed to know what was coming.

“I will _never…_ forgive any of you!” Sheena replied. The ground beneath her began to glow.

But, like Zelos was going to let her get the finishing blow.

Her mistake was looking over her shoulder. “H-hey, Sheena,” Zelos greeted, signature grin sweeping across his face.

Her battle-hardened features withdrew for a moment, although she did not smile back. “Are you all right, Zelos?”

“I’d be a lot better if you wouldn’t go around thinking you could steal my limelight,” Zelos quipped.

Seles nudged her brother’s arm and presented him with his gruesomely-stained sword.

“… Oh, fine. Do your thing. Who am I to stop the show-off?” Sheena snorted.

“Sweet. How ‘bout that one…?” Zelos called. Ah, like the old battle days.

The leader gasped and hollered.

Sheena’s spell circle grew and the promised, starry heavens opened for the leader, who received a serving of Summon Spirits Luna and Aska combined with Zelos’s Supersonic Thrust.

One bird, two stones.

* * *

What grunts remained voluntarily opted for prison over death, which they awaited while tied up outside of the warehouse. Truthfully, Zelos was glad to spare them the violence he’d used, although he knew that prison didn’t always turn out men like Regal 

Seles took a seat neatly upon the stairs in an effort to get her breath back. Zelos made sure her wound wasn’t irreversible then opted to recline in a soft pile of supplies the terrorists had hoarded.

But the moment Sheena came in from taking care of the grunts, her expression changed. She approached Zelos with weary, angry feet.

“So, Zelos. What, exactly,” she began; her voice quavered, “were you thinking?”

The hardened resolve in her face flickered. Not like before, how she snapped at him—this was a new fire. Lost in the face of what was sure to be a beating, Zelos shrugged. “I guess I'm just easily fooled by this sort of thing...”

“It was _suicide_ to go alone!” Sheena’s reprimand sharpened with strain.

“… but you said it yourself, I’m like a cockroach,” he replied.

“No!” Sheena strode over to him and stomped her foot. “Would you just stop acting like this was nothing? I mean, really, Zelos—you had to know how dangerous that was! It’s just—so—!” She choked on her words. Turning away from him, she mumbled. “It's so selfish.” She slumped to her knees on the ground.

“Whoa... Hey, I didn't mean it like that..."

When Zelos leaned up and tried to put a hand on her shoulder, she wrenched it away, flinging her arm in emphasis.

“Oh, you didn't? That's a surprise! Because last I remembered, you were hopping off on what I thought was the only Rheaird, telling me to not forget you. You were planning on dying, weren’t you?!” she accused.

It wasn’t wholly untrue, but Zelos couldn’t find the space to open his mouth.

“You should have said something when you left! You should have—”

Zelos raised his hand to his forehead. “Sheena, I didn't want you to do it out of...”

“Pity? You think I followed you out of _pity_?” Even as she said it, she realized the word formed by her own mouth sounded too fitting. She did feel badly that he was the only target of those terrorists, who were now lying bloodied and lifeless on the ground. But no, it wasn't pity.

“It doesn't make sense any other way,” Zelos reasoned, his face slow and serious. “Why would _you_ , of all people—you, the Chief of Mizuho, so incredibly necessary to restoring peace—th-the _Emissary_ of _Peace_ —why _should_ you risk your life for me?”

“Maybe because I actually do care about you, you moron!” she shouted through the dissonance, somehow managing to look at him. “And I don't know who to hate more right now. _You_ , for dragging me around and—and tricking me, or _me_ , for actually thinking—! It makes my head hurt,” she sighed, “And it makes… my heart hurt."

Zelos felt the hope leap up within him, although he stifled himself again. Just to hear her keep talking, maybe, just to make the trip last longer.

 “You were right, before. About Lloyd,” Sheena ventured. “It wouldn’t have been fair. You were always right, even if you were completely selfish about it!”

“Selfish!” he hummed. He stared up at the gaping hole in the roof. “... Fine. It was selfish of me to put you on the spot. But you've gotta understand... I knew you wouldn't let me run away. You wouldn't ever let me get so into my own head that I'd let myself lose. I shouldn't have placed that responsibility on you, but it looks like I needed you in the end.”

“Zelos... I respect that you tried to face them head-on. But still! Can you imagine what would have happened if you lost just now? Seles would be… and I... _I_...”

To think, on that Rheaird ride, he had been trying to imagine what Sheena’s life would have been like after he’d lost his here. Orochi’s presence skewed his mind, or maybe his brain was trying to shield him from the inevitable. But seeing her here, so valiant one moment and so, well, expressive the next; these were tears unseen since Corrine.

“Get over here,” he ordered, and she collapsed beside him on the concrete. She hid her face, but he knew from the movement of her ribcage that she was still crying. “Hey, come here.” He pulled her on top of him and curled her in his arms.

“You're— _so_ —stupid!” Sheena sobbed. What little room she had to move her arm she used to beat on his chest.

Biding, Zelos shook his head. “Don’t you know I was trying to spare you?”

“As if you wouldn’t have done the same for me!” she howled.

Zelos lifted her chin with his hand and looked at her. “Sheena.”

With no warning, she lunged forward and kissed him forcefully, the salt of her eyes mixing with sweat, and stale breath funneling into it. He was gentle to receive it, although she seemed insistent upon smashing her lips into his rather than bothering with tenderness. At such a cost, it was worth more than a thousand shy kisses from all the hunnies in the world. In the universe, even. But she pressed against him so hard that it hurt.

He let go once their teeth clacked.

“Where the heck did that come from?” he asked quietly, hands on her cheeks. He felt her weight shift atop him.

“If you're gonna be ungrateful, then why do I even—”

“I'm not! I'm glad. I'm so, so glad.” He cradled her to his side. “Can we try that again?”

Sheena’s face turned bright red. “F-f-forget it…”

“No,” Zelos smiled at her, giving a slight shake of his head. “Please. Let me.”

Cautious, Sheena tilted her chin back up toward him. His hand came up to the side of her face, and he traced the outside of her ear with his fingers. Now his nose brushed past hers, and very gently he pressed their lips together. It was a sweetness unknown to her, although very suddenly she remembered being drunk in the woods and his face being very close. The blush on her cheeks fueled a mean heat through her body. She found herself clawing at him, clinging with her legs. But Zelos was quiet, parting her lips and drawing her in.

“Ahem.”

Zelos looked up to see his sister standing over them, hands crossing over rope-marks. The remaining bonfire cast an eerie double.

Sheena all but jumped to the side.

“Excuse my interruption. I’m just, y’know,” Seles said wearily, “a little tired.”

“Of course! Of course, yes,” Sheena stammered. She stood, then gave a swift kick to the Chosen’s leg. “S-sorry he’s being such a Zeloser.”

Seles cast Sheena a glance, then looked back at her recumbent brother. “Chosen. Shall we?”

Zelos pushed himself off the ground with a hand. “Ugh. I guess nobody has any gels lying around?”

Seles shook her head and looked expectantly toward Sheena.

“—Why are you looking at me? I only had one on me when I had to leave,” she stammered.

“Either way, I think we need to get going. It’s dark and we’re all tired,” Seles noted. 

Zelos’s eyes locked with Sheena’s before he walked over to his sister. “I’d give you my coat, but it’s covered in blood,” he lamented. “Not really a welcome-home party.”

Seles shook her head. “That’s fine. I’m not cold,” she said. “But… thanks.”

“No prob! It’s the Chosen’s job!” Zelos laughed. He offered his arm to Seles, who took it for her own support.

Sheena turned on her heel. “Okay, that’s definitely my cue.”

“C’mon, lemme walk you out, at least.” Zelos reached out his hand for Sheena, but she rolled her eyes.

“Don’t be— _weird_ about it!” she objected, heading for the exit with fists balled. 

“I don’t think that was the weird part,” Seles muttered through a cough. But when the fit ended, she smirked up at her brother. Zelos threw her a wide smile and mussed up her hair.


End file.
